


Journey Into Mystery

by BrigidsBlest



Series: Journey Into Mystery [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Loki - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-01-04 11:17:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 81,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12167805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrigidsBlest/pseuds/BrigidsBlest
Summary: Who knew Odin had a half-mortal daughter? Only him and Heimdall...at least, until Loki found out...





	1. Dream a Little Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Signy, daughter of Odin and a mortal woman, has visions -- a gift inherited from her father, whose talent for foresight and prophecy is well known.
> 
> Those visions, and her half-Aesir strength and skill, make her valuable to Loki when he learns of her--a tool he intends to use against his brother and the Avengers...
> 
> Loki will stop at nothing to steal Signy away from Earth so he can fashion her into a weapon that will make him King.

There was a fire behind Signy’s eyes, and it was tearing through the entire camp, devouring everything in its path.

She watched the fire tear at the littlest of the children, tossing them aside like garbage. It mowed down the warriors, it ripped through the women and elders as if they were no more than wisps of mist.

Her mother’s words rang through her ears as she stood frozen, watching the flames eat at everything she had ever known: “You can never tell them who and what you are, or who your father was. They would not understand. At best, they would set you on a pedestal, try to worship you, and humans are not made for worship. Not even half-humans. At worst...at worst, they would fear you, and then they would either try to drive you away, or try to kill you. And they would fail, but in response you would have to hurt them. Maybe kill them. You cannot have their blood on your hands, so keep that secret in your heart forever.”

When all about her was ash, the fire turned to her…

...and there was a smile on its face as it reached to take her into its arms.

 

Signy Hansen woke, just barely biting back a scream. Her fingers gripped at the sheets under her, her entire body trembling on the narrow single bed. The first light of false dawn was just barely spilling in around the edges of the deerhide shade pegged over the window opposite her bed. Late July in Norway was nowhere near as hot as the more southern latitudes, but nonetheless, she was drenched in sweat.

When she could again take a deep breath without fear that it would come back out as a shriek, she loosed her fingers from the bedclothes and sat up slowly. The roosters in the pens outside had not yet started to crow for the sunrise, nor could she hear any of the usual sounds of the small Ragnarok community--no children crying for their breakfast, no men chopping wood for the fire, no sizzle of cooking meat for breakfast. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, briefly glancing over at the second narrow bed opposite hers that had been empty for more than a year ago, ever since her mother’s death. I need to have someone take that out of here. Someone else can surely use it, and cancer isn’t contagious, after all. She padded on bare feet across the plain, smooth-sanded wooden floor to the iron water pump in the corner of the cottage’s single large room, priming the pump until icy water gushed out into the hand-turned fired-clay bowl underneath the spigot. She cupped water into her hands and splashed it up into her face--good enough for now, though she would want a shower later. She raked her fingers through her hair and straightened the long flame-red strands, untangling the thin braids that wove through the heavy mane, bedecked with beads of amber and jet.

When she was clean and steady enough, and the light coming in around the edges of the windows were a little brighter, she pulled on a plain green work dress, the brown leather apron that went over it, and plain leather shoes that cross-laced around her ankles, then set about the day’s tasks. She took a moment to add fuel to last night’s fire, quickly building it up from glowing embers to a small fire, then set the kettle on the hook over it, adding oats and dried fruit and a small dollop of honey to cook for breakfast. Then she swept the kitchen, went to fill a bucket of water from the pump to wash dishes after breakfast, made the bed, cleaned the counters, and went down to the root cellar under the floor to take up a dried salt ham for dinner later. She was methodically working to keep her mind from dwelling on the vision she had dreamed; they never made any sense at the time of the vision, only coming to be understood when at last the event took place. This one had her on edge in a way that none of her earlier ones had, not even the vision she’d had of her mother’s death.

She ate her breakfast in silence. The little cabin that she and her mother had once occupied together was now hers alone, and she shared it with no one--no lover, no siblings, not even a dog or cat. There were birds nesting in the thatch roof, but that was as close to  roommates as she had. The people gathered at this tiny community in the cold upper reaches of Norway patiently awaited the Ragnarok of the Norse gods, knowing that sooner or later, it would come. Most of the inhabitants had their patrons or matrons among the gods, those they prayed to especially when trouble came--the headman worshiped Odin, the warriors followed Thor, the wives with their children prayed to Frigg, the farmers to Freyr, the young women seeking husbands or lovers to Freya. A few here and there chose no specific god, not yet having had enough experience in life to make that choice.

When breakfast was finished and the dishes cleaned, she banked the fire with ashes so the embers would simmer until dinner, then strapped on her sword, hung her shield across her back from its harness, took up her spear, and went out to survey the outer bounds of their town before going to train the newest warriors. A tall fence of iron-spiked wooden poles bordered the town, keeping strangers and intruders out, and providing safety for their folk against nature’s predators such as wolves and polar bears. She would go beyond the walls with a gathering of the men later as they felled trees for firewood, for even in July, the nights could be chill, and winter was never far away.

Freyfest was coming at the end of the month, just a day away, and later in the day, some of the men would slaughter several of the fat boars and cattle they raised, then gut them, bleed them, and skin them before carrying them on heavy poles to the women to roast for the feast. There would be all manner of summer delicacies -- pies full of apples, honey-bread, sweet mead. It would be the last bit of frivolity before the harvest came to prepare for winter, and it had been this way for the entire twenty years the community had stood here, a full year before Signy had been born. Her mother had come to the community near Repparfjord from America before she had been born, after Signy’s father had left her mother to return home to his wife.

A bitter smile traced her lips as she thought of what her mother had told her when she was 13, the truth about her father. Because of what she was, because of what her mother had told her she was, she had deliberately chosen never to take a lover unless one could best her in battle.

And so far, it had never happened.

There were times when she wished she could take a lover, usually when she was laying in bed alone, staring in the ceiling during the darkest part of the night, shivering with chill in the dead of winter. At least while her mother had still lived, she’d had someone she could talk to, share her fears and hopes with, talk about her visions with, share the work with. She sometimes watched the couples in the community, walking hand in hand or sneaking a kiss between tasks, talking to each other as they made their way through the day. She envied them; they seemed so at ease, two halves of the same heart. But she knew she would never have that.

The physical dangers alone made it a cruel hope. She knew what happened when a man and a woman shared a bed. She knew of the frenzied straining under the sheets when people coupled; her physical strength during such an unguarded moment, the passionate spasms of lovemaking, would almost certainly ensure that she would hurt--if not kill--any man she took to bed as her lover, shattering his bones and pulping his organs in her ecstatic embrace.

No, better to turn her physical skills and strength toward defending the village against whatever might come.

Her mother had started her training with the warriors when she was three, at the same time she had started teaching her to read and write and do sums. The same time she had begun to learn her languages; like most children in Europe, she grew up multilingual, and could easily manage English, Norwegian, Old Norse, Finnish, German, Icelandic, Swedish, Danish, Faroese, and enough bits of the indigenous Sami tongue to get by with if she ever ran into traders. There had been lessons in wrestling and hand-to-hand combat first, and by the time she was five, she could best youths of sixteen. At the age of six, they had introduced her to lessons with the sword and shield, axe and spear and bow, and by the time she was ten, she was taking down seasoned warriors three times her age. Egil, one of the elders, had taught her double-sword technique, leaving her shield aside, though with his old body, he had only been able to show her the basics; she’d had to learn on her own after that, improvising, mixing slashing and stabbing and blocking and hacking moves with leaps and whirls and jumps and dashes and drops. She had even learned how to use modern weapons--handguns, rifles, shotguns, even tasers--though they were shunned in the camp.

She was, quite simply, much stronger, faster, and tougher than anyone else in the camp.

Because they were all only human, and she...was not.

By the time she was fifteen, she could take down groups of warriors on her own, first five, then eight, then twelve, and by the time she was eighteen, she could hold her own against every warrior in the camp. They had made her the chief of the warriors, the trainer of new youths entering that group, and she took her duties very seriously. When Ragnarok came, they would all be called upon by Odin to fight at his side.

Her most of all, given that he was her father.

She had never laid eyes upon Odin, never met him, never seen a photograph of him. But she had no reason to believe her mother had lied, had been mistaken, had been tricked by her lover. Her inhuman physical capability was enough testament to the fact that she was more than human.

And then there were the visions.

She had been taught all the stories about the gods, growing up. How Odin had lost his eye and hung upon Yggdrasil in exchange for wisdom, prophecy, and magic to avert Ragnarok. His skills with prophecy had manifested in her when she was seven, and had dreamt of one of the warriors leaping off a tightrope walker’s platform, falling into a bucket of water. A week later, that same warrior had fallen off a cliff while out hunting, and fallen into the sea. His body had been found washed up on the beach, broken to bits long before he could drown.

She had told her mother of the dream, and her mother had understood it for what it was: a glimpse of the future, couched in riddles and metaphor, the images unclear and understandable only in hindsight.

It worried her now, in light of the dream that had woken her this morning. If what she had seen was even a bit accurate, it meant--at the least--the destruction of the entire community.

And what of the smiling flame that had reached out to embrace her?

She shivered.

She suspected she had very little time left to find out.

The group of young warriors she was training--young men and women between the ages of 13 to 16--were waiting for her in the town square, swords sheathed on their belts, shields in hand. “Good morning, Signy.” the oldest of them, a boy named Olaf, greeted her cheerfully. “We have all fed and are ready for lessons.”

She did not miss the look he gave her, taking in the rope of amber chips around her neck, the bronze armlet clasped around her left upper arm, the apron of chain mail she had traded for her leather work apron; there were steel greaves on her forearms and lower legs. They trained with live steel, after all, and she had the strength and control to stop a blow against one of her pupils before it hit if they failed to block it; they did not. She did not miss how his gaze lingered on her breasts or hips. She knew well that he hoped to grow trained enough to best her in a fight.

She did not have the patience to tell him it would never happen. She had tested her own strength where no one could see her earlier this year, taking the community’s biggest axe out to the forest to--she had said--cut wood. She was capable of cutting through hundred-year oaks with only a single blow; if she used her full strength against any normal human, she would cleave through shield and armor and cut them in half.

Yes, control was important.

Even as they marched toward the cleared space at the edge of the village, the vision she’d had preyed on her mind. For the first time ever, she considered going to the council that ruled the community and telling them what they had seen. They all followed the gods; they used the runes to ask for wisdom and help make decisions. They might understand her gift. She had never spoken of it before to anyone but her mother, not even when her mother got sick and eventually died--she had foreseen that, too--but if the vision was a true one, and she said nothing, and it happened…

...then was the blood of everyone in the village on her hands?

Even as she paired the fighters off to practice against each other with wooden swords and shields--and as Olaf came to spar with her--the vision consumed her attention. She blocked Olaf’s blows and swipes methodically, but with no real focus.

That was a mistake.

He dropped down fast, leaning on one arm and leg to slash out under the bottom edge of her shield, too fast for her to block in her unfocused state. She felt the edge of steel slash through a weak spot in her mail, battered from too many bouts like this one, and then through the wool of her gown.

Cold steel caressed her skin and she stumbled back even as the other youngsters gasped and screamed, expecting there to be blood and a waterfall of entrails emptying to the earth.

Even Olaf fell back, clearly having expected her to smack his blade down before it reached her.

She tossed her sword and shield down, blinking, slowly reaching down to part the riven cloth--

Her skin was unmarked, not even a pink scratch showing against her cream-pale skin.

They stared in awe and not a little confusion, the bewilderment in their eyes slowly growing, changing, becoming suspicion. “What...how are you not dead?” one of the other girls, Hilda, asked. “Why aren’t your guts on the ground?”

Signy opened her mouth to answer her...and that was when the screams began.

The students all turned toward the sound of the screaming, weapons dropping from their hands in shock.

“NO!” Signy roared. “Pick up those damn swords! What the fuck do you think I’ve been training you for?” She grabbed up her own sword and shield, and ran.

They scrambled for blades and shields, and she ran toward the sound of shrieking, scooping up a second blade that Olaf had yet to grab back up. The closer she got to the center of town, the more bodies she spotted, bloodied and hacked and blasted, burned with strange energies she couldn’t recognize. Egil, the elder who had taught her the double-sword technique; Wayland, the town smith; Ilse. Elsie and Jori, Berit the wise woman. Everyone she had ever known.

Her throat tightened as she heard the sounds of blades clanging and clashing together. The village’s guards were in battle--the last two or three of them, anyway--with a slim, tall figure with his back to her. The man was clad in green and black with touches of gold, his long raven hair midway down his back, and he moved like--

He moved like living flame. Swift, deadly, unstoppable.

She was cast back to her dream. The grinning fire.

It had come for her. And everyone else would die.

She threw a glance over her shoulder at the youngsters running up behind her. “GO BACK!” she shouted. “RUN!”

Even as they turned to do so, following her orders, the figure cut down the last of the guards and turned toward her. She stood ready, a sword in each hand, surrounded by death.


	2. Battle of Wills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki brings Signy to Asgard.

The God of Mischief knew that no one and nothing could stop him as he made his way through the village. They were a small minded group who worshiped Odin as a great God when he was nothing more than a conniving, two-faced ruler who cared only about his own power and greatness and cared nothing for those he wounded in the process. His mother had been the only one of the so called “royals” who had loved him genuinely. Thor was the chosen one and even though Loki was told he was born to be a king, it had been a lie, told to placate a child. He was no longer that gullible child. If they thought him the “trickster” before, he would make sure that they understood his other moniker, “God of Lies.” Of course he was also a God of Ice, too, but only those in his family, and no one else, knew that he was also the son of a Frost Giant, a prince who had been left to die because he was too small, and too weak. He had vowed to himself to never be any of those things again.

The child he sought was half human, a female at that, the daughter of Odin and a mortal woman who had prayed to him to bring her a child to share her pathetic life. Odin had heard her prayers and, being the selfish man that he was, he visited the woman--repeatedly--while his faithful wife, Loki's mother, waited for him. It was just those types of things that had made him hate the man, and want to rule instead of his idiot brother or his adopted father.

When he overheard Heimdall and Odin talking of the mortal woman, he took the time to listen carefully. He would find her and he would kill her, to prove his love to his mother and to make Odin suffer for his transgressions against his mother. That never came to pass, as his mother was killed by the Dark Elf, Malekith before he could do so. It did, however, give him the chance to deceive his father enough to cast him from Asgard and to push Thor to Earth so the god of thunder could play 'house' with his mortal lover. He went to find the mortal woman, only to find her also dead, but her daughter--the daughter of Odin and a mortal--was very much alive and well. 

She was still young and fresh...and he had decided she would be the perfect weapon against his brother and Thor's mortal friends, the group of heroes that had ended his first attempt to claim his rightful rule over the world. He had watched her best men in battle much stronger than herself.

But he was no man, or at least not a mortal man, and he would have her, and keep her until the time came for her to be of use, in much the same way Odin had intended to use him.

The pathetic villagers fell one by one. He paid no attention to the children of the village; they were no threat, but any man or woman who stood in his path, he cut down without care. He had one target and that was the fire-haired woman who now stood facing him, two swords in hand, as he turned. He smiled then, an amused smile, and he held his head high, looking down at the smaller woman, who he knew would not be as much a pushover as the mortals he’d already bested. 

“I am Loki of Asgard, and I’ve come for you, Odin’s daughter,” he said, pointing a blood-stained dagger at her. “And you will come with me. If you resist me, the children I leave who lie gutted and bleeding behind you is by your choice.”

Signy heard the whispers behind her start at once, and she cursed; the children hadn’t run as she had ordered. “Odin’s daughter?” she heard most clearly, from Olaf’s voice.

She swallowed hard. If this was truly Loki--and her vision made so much more sense now, if it was--there was no way she could best him. But it was not in her to just throw down her swords--and myth and lore told her she would be a fool to trust him to keep his word...ambiguously phrased as it was.

She stood up straight, as tall as she could; he dwarfed her mere five feet, but she refused to let herself be cowed. “The number of children behind me who lay gutted and bleeding will be zero, if I go with you peacefully? Swear it on Yggdrasil and the well of the Norns.” She knew better than to ask him to swear by Odin’s name, but the world tree and the well of Wyrd--those things, lore said was binding. “Swear you will neither harm nor kill any of my charges, nor have anyone else harm or kill them. Swear it by Yggdrasil and the well, and I will sheathe my weapons and go with you.” She straightened her shoulders; it would be easier to fight if the children had run, but even that was no guarantee that they would escape unscathed.

He watched her, the set of her shoulders, the way she spoke, and part of him hated her for the confidence he saw in her. Her eyes were too much like Odin’s, the same color, but her words were clear and he had made the offer. He did not believe that she would willingly give herself over, so the fact that she agreed actually surprised him. He sheathed his own daggers, and looked at her. “The blood of children proves nothing of my strength, that I could cut them down is useless cruelty, and I am not of that ilk. I swear on the tree of life, Yggdrasil and the well of the Norns, that if you come with me, these children and what remains of the village will be untouched,” he said. “The children are untouched and may go,” he said and gave a small gesture of his hand, a slight movement, and Signy was left alone with him, the children and village gone, the two of them now standing in a field several miles from the village.

She startled in shock, but took a deep breath and sheathed her own sword, sticking Olaf’s--which was a full foot longer than her own, since he was so much taller than her--through her belt. “You kept your word. Thus do I keep mine,” she said. It would have been a lie to say she was unafraid, but her mother had raised her to face life’s challenges--even those that might lead to death--with her head held high and her spine straight. Cowering in fear was a thrall’s move. Her Wyrd had been set from the time of her birth, and nothing would change it. All she could do was act with the honor that she had always claimed. She let her hands drop to her side and waited.

He arched a brow, “Well, that was far easier than I expected. I am glad to find you actually have a brain in that head of yours, unlike your father,” he said as he walked over to her. He gripped her chin, twisting her head gently one way, then another. “You should be thankful that you favor your mother over your father. At least you’re not a wretch to look at,” he said, then released her chin. “And just so you know, I despise Odin, so I am not coming to do you any favors. I have use of you, and it is that reason and nothing more that I come for you. I care not if you live or die, but until I no longer have need or use of you, you can be assured that I won’t kill you.” He grabbed her around her waist, holding her tight against him. “Hold on,” he demanded, and with a quick motion of his hands, they were instantly travelling toward Asgard.

When he grabbed her chin, she found it extremely hard to keep from yanking back and hissing at him. No one had ever touched her in such a fashion before, and her hands itched to lash out and slap him across the face. But she kept her tongue leashed, listening to his words, breathing deep to keep her devilish temper inside her, though she could not keep from grimacing in rage when he grabbed her around the waist. He held her with casual contempt, not even bothering to try to immobilize her, and she could think of at least three ways to force him to let go.

But the moment the world shifted around them, she realized what a bad idea that would be. Wherever they were, wherever they were going, it wasn’t Earth--not any more--and she had no desire to get trapped there.

Loki had expected more of a fight from her, but as he grabbed her, he saw the fire behind her eyes and it made him smile. She would be fighting him soon enough, and he only had to bide his time until she lashed out at him. He felt her stiffen as he grabbed her and expected a fist to his jaw, but once they were moving toward Asgard, the fight was gone. He almost laughed out loud just thinking of how the quick trip to the realm of Asgard would affect her. They appeared just outside of his quarters, a meager room prepared for his newest acquisition. He had to hold her to keep her from falling over, the abruptness to the travel and magic, which he expected.

Signy gritted her teeth in fury and dismay, her entire body quivering in reaction to the magical journey. She took a breath so sharply it hissed in her nostrils, fought with the urge to vomit, and marshaled her strength, wrenching away from him with a low growl. Despite the fact that she was still unsteady on her feet--a fact she did her best to hide--she bared her teeth at him in a snarl. “Never touch me again,” she spat, hands dropping instantly to the hilts of the two swords at her waist.

His brows furrowed and he grabbed her arm, jerking her toward him. “Don’t think to give me orders, little girl. I am not one of your charges, nor am I some common man to whom you give orders. I will decide if I touch you or not, wench,” he said as he pulled her toward the extra room. He flung the door open to reveal a room with a decent but plain bed, a pedestal that held a bowl of fresh water, and a small closet. It was bare but not uncomfortable. The windows had no glass and were open to the air outside, the thin drapes waving softly with the breeze. He gave her a shove toward the middle of the room, “One of the maids will bring you bedding and clothing soon enough, as well as food.”

The moment he shoved her away, her temper snapped, and she drew both swords, eyes blazing as she flung herself toward him, throwing her body into a curving flip that brought her down from overhead, one sword lashing out toward his face, carving a bloody slash into his cheek, the other sweeping down toward his knees, turned so that its flat hit him there and threw him off balance to tumble to the floor. “I said never touch me!” she roared, face contorted in fury.

She moved far faster than he ever anticipated and that was his own mistake. His pride made him think there was no way that she, even half Asgardian, could move so well. The moment he stumbled and hit the floor, his hands flashed out and the daggers were in his hand. He charged at her, the illusion he cast then became three of himself and each came at her from different directions, circling her as each of them moved toward her in a rush. He brought his elbow back and then hit her in the upper chest, knocking her backward and also knocking the air from her.

She went with the blow, and that let her know which of him was the real Loki. She flung herself backward, stealing the momentum to power her tumble, flipping back to her feet, never taking her eyes off him. She hurled herself at him, both swords singing through the air in unison, one flashing out to knock a dagger from his left hand, the other snipping in from the other side to smash her other blade down into his right hand, sending the dagger flying to embed itself deeply into the wall, numbing the fingers that had held it.

He might have been impressed if she hadn’t angered him. He had finally decided he would no longer hold back, and he struck her then in the arm, letting the full force of it hit her. If he broke the arm, he’d heal it later. He didn’t care if she was hurt, she was a pawn and nothing more. As she stumbled, he struck out at her with a quickness and fury that he’d barely even touched on in her camp. And if she continued to fight, he’d go down and kill every last man, woman, and child and make her watch.

She felt the bone snap in her arm and Olaf’s sword tumbled from her hand; a moment later, a kick sent her sprawling to the floor, the other sword falling away. A wave of sickening pain swept up from the broken bone, enough to make her nearly vomit. It was the first serious injury she had ever sustained in her life, and she clenched the arm above the break to hold it steady, her face going white with the pain. She kept her teeth gritted, letting not a single sound escape her lips as she struggled to her knees, beaten.

“Stop fighting, you stupid girl,” he snapped at her. “You are impressively fast and skilled with a sword, but I am Jotun and Asgardian, and you are still half human.” He took a few steps in a circle around her again. “Now, would you like me to give you another lesson in our differences, or do you think you can control your disgust with me and behave yourself so I can set that arm?” he asked. “Or you can let it heal crooked--your choice, of course.” His voice was smooth, like silk being dragged over skin, and he folded his arms and waited for her answer.

She glared up at him, breathing in slow and evenly as the pain receded with torturous delay. “I had enough first aid lessons as part of my training,” she muttered, carefully dancing the fingers of her unhurt arm along the broken one, tracing the shape of the break. She swallowed hard. “I don’t need your help to set it.”

Before he could react, she grabbed the wrist of her broken arm, below the break, and yanked it outward, twisting it slightly. She felt the bones resettle back into a straight position even as her stomach heaved with the pain of it. She hunched forward over her arm with a whimper, fighting with her guts to try to keep that morning’s breakfast inside her. The pain receded after a second, much less now that the humerus and radius were back in their proper alignment. They would heal straight if not further strained.

“You are as stubborn as Odin,” he growled, then reached down to grab her arm. He began to mutter words that were wholly unfamiliar as the pain receded. “I had no intentions of harming you, and yet you’ve acted like this, so I guess you have set the tone for how this will continue.” He began another set of words that felt like invisible bonds around her legs and body, holding her tight in place as he swept her up into his arms. “I hope you enjoy laying on your back staring at the ceiling,” he growled, then all but tossed her on the bed, the healing spell already at work on her arm.

She writhed in fury, muscles straining against the invisible bonds that held her, and a stream of curses slipped from her lips in multiple languages. Her eyes clenched shut for a moment and she fought to rein in her temper, breathing heavily. At last, she managed to get it under control, eyes snapping open to glare at him. “I give as I get,” she hissed. “Ask for nothing. Take nothing I have not earned. Earn anything I take. Am no burden to anyone. Keep my word once given, always.” She took a deep breath and went still.

“Well, that is lovely to hear. You said you would come without a fight and yet here you are, fighting me because I dared to touch you. So should I return and pay a visit to your little charges? Pick one of them to pay for your little outburst?” he asked her, placing a hand on either side of her head as he gazed at her. “And shall I leave you bound for the next day or so? Or do you think you can act like a nice little captive and at least acknowledge that I have the upper hand at the moment,” he smiled. “I can see in your eyes that you are already plotting ways to kill me, but feel free to continue. No one else has succeeded, why do you think you would?” he asked, his nose almost touching hers.

“No!” she said sharply. “You have a poor memory, Loki of Jotunheim. Recall exactly what I said. I said if you left the children unharmed, I would sheathe my swords and come with you. And so I have done. I said nothing about not fighting you whenever we arrived where we were going. You must pay better attention, godling, if you would match minds with me.” She met his stare contemptuously. “Sloppy. Yes, you have the upper hand for the moment, because I know nothing of the ways of sorcery. And I have no plans to kill you, because I know I cannot do so. But I wished to repay you for touching me when I told you not to, and you have been repaid.” Her gaze traced the curving line she had carved into his cheek, watching the drops of blood slide down to caress his jawline. “I always say exactly what I mean, and do exactly as I say.”

“Well, my little pet, I do recall that you told me to swear that I would not harm them and you would go peacefully, is that not correct? While you did not specify the terms of peacefully or when that expired, neither did I specify my terms of how long I would wait before I killed those delightful little children, so tell me, my little flame, I kept my word so far, have you kept yours?” he asked, a brow arched.

“I came with you peacefully,” she said, very quietly, very still. “We had arrived before I attacked. I did not say I would remain peaceful forever. And you said that the blood of children proved nothing of your strength, that you could cut them down was cruelty, and you were not of that ilk.” She parroted his words back at him. “Or were you lying?”

“I am the Lord of Lies, am I not?” he asked her, as he stood, leaving her bound with his magic. “I do what suits me and my purpose. True, killing them is only cruel, but it would live in your mind, knowing you were the reason they died. I think that alone makes it a worthwhile use of my lies and cruelty, don’t you?” he asked her.

“Don’t,” she bit out, then let out a sigh. “What will it take to ensure their permanent safety from you?” she asked carefully. “Tell me, and I will swear to it.” She shuddered, knowing well how awful some of the things he might ask could be. “And I have never broken an oath.”

“No more acting like a Valkyrie intent on destroying me, and yes, before you ask, your Gods and Goddesses and the stories you have for them are not always correct.” He stood up straight, releasing the bonds that held her immobile. “My purpose is not to torture you...at least, not right now,” he looked down at her, hands on his hips.

That last line gave her no comfort, but she did her best to ignore it. She sat up slowly, then stood, very carefully, and met his gaze with her own stare. “So long as you keep your word to me about not harming the children, then I give my oath that I will...quit trying to injure or kill you.” She set her jaw and took it a step further, an extra promise meant to seal the deal. “Nor will I try to humiliate you, and should you let me keep my weapons, I will defend you against your foes to the best of my capabilities.” She lifted her head, still defiant but acquiescing to his wishes. “Will that suit?” She had a duty to protect what was left of the village, especially the children, who could not protect themselves. If the price for that was her dignity and her freedom, so be it.

“Very well. I don't believe that you will need to defend me, but should the opportunity present and you feel it is warranted, then I assure you that the children in your village are safe from harm, from any threat. Will that suit?” he asked her, arms folded across his chest.

“It will,” she said quietly. “Are we done, then? I assume you have god things to go do.”

He laughed and it was pure amusement. “Actually, being a God is rather boring and not exactly what I am. I am from another plane of existence, as I am sure you are aware. What you call Earth, Midgard. I was born in Jotunheim, but raised as a son of Odin, found and adopted by him and Frigga.”

She snorted. “I have no father,” she said tersely. “And no mother for a year now. I have only myself, and it must be enough.” She paced restlessly around the perimeter of the small room  before looking up at him. “If you have no...god things to do, does that mean you’re going to stand here and talk at me?” Her expression showed her anxiousness.

“Talk at you?” he laughed and then smiled. “Since it seems you find my company so unpleasant, I will take my leave and you can let the maids and birds be the only faces you see. I'm sure you'll find them ever so talkative,” he laughed and turned for the door.

She said nothing as she watched him turn away. He knew nothing of her, she mused, if he thought that she cared at all for idle chatter. Once he was gone, she mused, she could push the furniture all the way to the wall and use the space here, small as it was, for weapons practice. Since she had nothing else to do. Push-ups and sit-ups and other such exercises--not pull-ups, there was no bar in here, but others--would hone her to iron hardness, spareness, cut away all that was soft and useless to her.

As indeed, all her prior life had become.


	3. Tempered by Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Signy gets a little taste of what life on Asgard can be like.

Loki took the chance, when he reached his own room, to peek in at the fire-haired woman. She was a warrior, and he knew that breaking her would be nigh-on impossible, so he decided on something different for the human daughter of Odin. He would introduce her to some of the female warriors and let them train her. With Odin missing, he would treat her well enough and when the time came, he would unleash her against his foes.

Signy paced the length of each wall of the room, measuring it out with her steps, and then took up a position at the center of it, eyes closed. She picked up her sword and set Olaf’s sword aside on the bed; it was simply too long to wield in a room this small, though she could use it well enough in battle in an open space. Then, without opening her eyes, she began to move, picturing her opponent--one man, and just him alone--circling around her. She went through her blows quickly, cutting him down time after time, the sword never once slamming into the walls or cutting into furniture, despite her closed eyes. Njarl the Blind had taught her how to fight without the use of her eyes--unscrupulous warriors often used thrown handfuls of sand or salt to blind their foes--and she imagined listening for every scrape of a foot, every exhaled breath, every sound that would mark where her foe stood.

After half an hour, she was soaked to the skin, and paused, sheathing her sword long enough to remove the scale armor apron she wore, tossing it onto the bed with Olaf’s sword. The hole Olaf had put in it made it useless for defense anyway, though the extra weight forced her to work harder and be more precise in her moves. The green work dress she had donned this morning when she had risen was drenched through, pasting the fabric to her curves. She unthreaded a leather cord from one shoe, removing both shoes to go barefoot, and tied her heavy mass of hair up out of her face and eyes, slender swan’s neck arching gracefully.

Then she took up her sword again and started over, cursing her father with every breath she took.

An hour later, two women knocked on the door and then stepped inside.

“Our Lord requests you allow us to attend you after you bathe so you may prepare for dinner,” the older of the two said as she brought in two different boxes. Each contained a dress, one in a deep blue and green, the other in a dark forest green and black. They were not elegant, but they were of a softer, lighter material than her current clothing. “Do you prefer a hot bath?” the woman asked, carrying a plain bathing robe over her arm.

Signy blinked in startlement, slowly lowering and then sheathing the sword. There were droplets of water splattered all over the floor where her sweat had sprayed in her vigorous, energetic workout. “Hot...yes, hot would be good,” she said hesitantly. “I...you are Asgardians?” she asked at last, unused to being served.

“Yes, my name is Oda and this is my sister Liv. We have worked for the Prince for a few months now that he has returned to Asgard,” she told her. She offered her the robe, “You can wear this when you finish your bath. When you return, you can choose your dress, Liv will walk you down to the bathing room.” she said with a smile and then set about cleaning the room.

Liv opened the door for Signy, “It’s right down the hall, M’lady.”

Signy paused on the threshold. “The green and black dress,” she said quietly, and then headed down the hall where she had been indicated. 

“Let me prepare the hot water, would you like to choose an oil for your bath, we have a few along the shelf there. I think the elarim oil is wonderful,” she told her. Liv had no idea that Signy was from Midgard; she had been told only that the girl was Loki’s guest and that they were to treat her with respect.

“Um...that would be fine, then,” Signy said, having no idea what 'elarim' was. She stood out of the way as the woman worked, watching with well-hidden discomfort.

Steam rose off the water as Liv moved around, twisting several knobs. “You can hang your clothes on the rack there, m’lady, just drape them over and I’ll make sure they are washed and brought back to you,” Liv said as she poured some of the oil in the bath. “You are very talented with the sword, we saw you practicing before you noticed us. The warriors would be impressed with your skill,” she told her, offering her a silken cloth to wash with.

Signy climbed into the tub and sighed in relief at the heat, then accepted the cloth and wetted it, then began to scrub her face, wiping away the sweat, then under her arms, then the rest of her. She leaned back in the water to soak her hair, coming out the tangles, carefully unbraiding the mass and taking out the chips of amber that held each small braid. Her face was rosy with the heat of the water, and the oil beaded on her skin, giving it a lush shine. Discreetly, she chose not to answer the woman’s comments about her weapons skill; she was uncertain how it would be taken.

“Your hair is so beautiful, and so long. How do you keep it from tangling when you fight so vigorously? Even plaited it has to be hard to maintain.”

“Not easy, that. It has never been cut,” Signy said. “Not since I was born. I not only keep it plaited, I tie it up when I do more than the simplest of practicing.” She rinsed it again and again. “In the summer, when the air gets dry, I oil it to keep it pliable and untangled.”

“I will get you some oil for your hair. It is what we use here for our hair when it becomes long. I think you will like it. It helps the hair to shine but it very light of weight,” Liv told her, then offered her another cloth with a bit of the scented oil on it. “This will leave your skin shining and smelling of the elarim for hours.”

“Thank you,” Signy said, taking the cloth. Her mother had taught her manners for both greater and lesser than she, and her temper had eclipsed all else when dealing with Loki, but these people were blameless and deserved better. She washed, smoothing the oil over her skin, her hair clean, the long trailing ends floating in the water like scarlet strands of seaweed.

Liv returned again a few moments later with a brush and the oil, as well as several different colored leather thongs and clips she could use for her hair. “I thought these may come in handy for you. I know they’re nothing fancy but they should serve well for your hair. I will be in your quarters if you have need of me,” she said and bowed, then slipped away from her.

Signy finished washing and then climbed out, drying herself off before moving to stand before the mirror. She brushed her hair out straight with long strokes of the provided brush, and then her fingers began the complex task of fixing her hair. First she made thinner braids, then thicker ones, both on the sides and back, weaving them together, twisting the long, heavy strands into what looked like a falling length of red rope at the back of her head. She used the thongs and clips to hold it in place, weaving in a few sprigs of greenery from one of the plants along the wall before she pulled on her robe. 

Then she headed back down the hall, barefoot, to the room she had been given, slipping inside in silence.

Liv perked up and then smiled as Signy walked in. “Oh, m’lady, you are a vision,” she said brightly. 

Oda turned and smiled. “You do look lovely, now let’s get you into dress for dinner,” she said as she began to unlace the back of the dress for her.

Signy was not unused to being naked in front of other women, given that the village women had often gathered together at the village sauna to bathe together, just as the men did. But she was not used to having people serve her. She hid her discomfort and waited for the woman to finish unlacing the dress. It was a different style than she was used to, more medieval English than the traditional Viking apron dress she and the other women usually wore; even in summer, the location of the community in the very far North parts of Norway made it chill enough to demand full clothing.

Oda helped her into the dress and then began to lace it up, instructing Signy to hold it in the front. “Where did your name come from, m’lady? It’s quite beautiful,” Oda said as she worked the lacing in the back of the dress. 

“How did you become a warrior?” Liv asked quickly.

“My name? Um...it comes from my language,” Signy said. “My mother gave it to me. It means ‘new victory’.” Her tone turned wry. “I suspect she meant to impress my father, but if so, it backfired on her. He left before I was born and I have never so much as laid eyes on him.” She paused, then went on. “As for being a warrior...I picked up a sword when I was three and have trained ever since,” she said. “I may take after my father in that, too. And my brother.” Her eyes shone thundercloud grey as she thought of it, even though her mouth was turned up in a hard sort of smile.

“Why would a mother let her babe begin fighting so young? I can’t imagine knowing how to fight at such an age,” Liv said as she fussed over getting Signy’s other clothes ready to wash them. 

Oda looked at her sister. “Liv, sometimes a mother knows her child’s skills before even the child does. Her mother may have had foresight,” she said, then turned to Signy. “Either way, you are very skilled with the sword,” she said, then gave Signy a little pat on the back. “You are ready for your dinner.” 

“Thank you both,” Signy said, inclining her head in a grateful nod. “Where do I go for that? I have not been to Asgard before.”

Liv laughed. “I am so sorry, follow me and I will take you to the dining area,” she said as she waved Signy along with her. “I am sure m’lord is waiting for you, he spends much time in the dining hall and adjoining library.”

“Does he, now?” Signy murmured. “Those are not the places I would have expected to find him.” Her tone was thoughtful and cool as she followed.

“He studies and reads much. He is not like many of the others, he tends to keep to himself. Of course, he and Thor have bickered for as long as I have been alive, but ever since Thor returned to Midgard, there has been much tension. Our Lord now stays away from most everyone, only journeying out here and there,” Liv said, then became silent. She opened the door and Signy was greeted with the library.

Loki turned and saw that she was there and he held his comment as she walked in. He had not expected her to accept his gifts of the dresses, but he had to admit to himself that she was beautiful in them. He quickly let go that thought and then laid the book down where it was opened to the page he had been reading.

“Thank you for joining me for lunch. Liv, mead please?” he asked her.

The servant hurried away, and Signy padded over to where he sat. She had left the swords behind in her room, but there was a dagger under the dress, sheathed and tucked into the side of the calf-high suede boots. She bit back her first kneejerk response to his thanks--that she had been under the impression that she no longer had a choice in where she went or what she did--and merely nodded, eyes going blue-grey and calm. She did not smile, but neither was she glaring in hostility. “One has to eat, after all,” she murmured neutrally. “Thank you for allowing me out of my room to do so. What I have seen of the castle is lovely.”

“Thank you,” he said as he walked the rows of books along the wall. “And Oda and Liv, they have been courteous and helpful?” he asked, steepling his fingers as he turned to face her once more. 

Liv came back with two steins for the mead and filled both before leaving them on a small side table. “Is that all, M’lord?” she asked.

“It is, please tell the kitchen staff that we will have our meal at quarter past,” he said, and then watched as she left, closing the door behind her.

“Yes, they were both extremely helpful and well-mannered,” she said quietly. “I am unused to having anyone serve me. Aside from my mother, when I was very young, I have always taken care of myself, but I thank you for sending them, nonetheless.” 

“Things are a bit different than on Midgard. I expect that you will be treated well by my people while you are here,” he took a few steps forward. “You are the daughter of Odin, yes?”

She arched a brow, but there was no mockery on her face. “You know I am,” she said quietly. “In fact, until you blurted out my secret in front of the children, you were the only person other than myself who knew I am. At least, since my mother passed away.”

He looked at her, “Did you believe your mother? Or was it something you thought she told you to make you feel better that your father was not in your life?”  he asked her, pacing as he did. “I just want to know what you know of Odin Allfather,” he said, watching her as he moved around the room.

“I have no reason to believe my mother lied,” she said, lifting her head slightly. “I have read through the lore--the Hávamál, the Völuspá, the Grímnismál. My capabilities far exceed those of normal humans, and having one of the Aesir for a father explains that. My mother told me my father was not present in my life because he needed to be on Asgard to deal with the troubles of the gods; she had only asked for a child, not that he stay to help raise me.” She looked down at the floor for a long silent moment. “You ask only what I know of him...not what I feel about him. Interesting.”

“Feelings mean very little. Sentiment is…a waste, at times. He wasn’t in your life--why would you have any feelings about that at all? Possibly anger? I don’t care, to be honest. However, the fact of how he feels about you, that is another discussion entirely, isn’t it, my dear?” he said as servants entered to bring out the food and set it on the table.

“To be honest, I don’t care any more,” she said flatly. “He wasn’t in my life. That’s an inexorable fact. And I don’t see him now, trying to make up for that. Even if he did, I wouldn’t care.” She shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, he has so little importance to me, he’s as dead as my mother.”

“Trust me, he would only disappoint, or use you to some end,” he said, then looked at her. “Of course, I guess I am no better then, am I?” he said with a smile and waved for her to proceed over to the table. “Shall we continue our discussion over our meal?” he asked. 

“If I have a choice, I’d prefer not to,” she said bluntly. “I fear it might sour my stomach for the meal. I’m guessing that choice is not mine, however, so...as you wish.”

He laughed quietly and moved to sit down. “Suit yourself, I figured you might want to know the truth about your Gods that you spend so much time praying to and the ideals you have of the mighty Asgard,” he said then picked up his glass to drink from it. He made no other gesture to try and say more.

She sat. “We could talk about such things without having to discuss him,” she said calmly. “But frankly, I was not the most devout person in my community. In fact, aside from children and babes who had little awareness of such things, I might have been the least devout. I believed there were gods...but unlike my mother, I didn’t much believe they listened to any of us. I had proof enough of that.” She studied her food.

He gazed at her. “Sometimes we do hear, but there are arguments among us as to whether we are truly Gods. We can be harmed and we can die. A true God cannot be killed. A true God is immortal. We are not, we’re very very old, and we can live thousands of years, but we are not immortal,” he told her. “And sometimes we do visit Midgard, hear the prayers of someone and help them, but most are praying to the skies for nothing, and sometimes luck gives them what they prayed for, nothing more.”

She nodded curtly. “And only answer when it suits their own agenda. Yes, that’s about what I had figured. Thank you for confirming that. And the other.” She took a sip of her mead.

“But there are also other forces around us, magic, different places of power, sometimes objects that have been born of the universe that contain energies we can't begin to understand their true power. And then there is positive and negative energy of the universe, it all has an effect on everything else. That is a God-like quality, it's it not?” He asked. He wanted to get to know her, how she thought, her weaknesses. It would serve a purpose when the time came to use her as he intended.

“An energy alone cannot be a God. Nor can an object. But an individual could wield either and be said to emulate godlike qualities, I suppose,” Signy said. “I imagine a modern mortal with a flamethrower would have seemed like a god to a primitive of the stone age, but that would not make him one. It would only be a lesser mind that would mistake him for such.” She pondered. “And as you have said you and yours are not Gods, I must then suppose that all similar groups of deities worshiped throughout history are much the same. Not gods. Even to the white Christ.” She turned her head and made a spitting sound. “So I need not worship anyone, though I show respect to those stronger than me, and kindness to those weaker than me, until they violate the right to that. Thank you for making me stronger, brother.”

“Brother? Not entirely. I am not of Odin’s blood. But if you believe that by being honest I have made you stronger, then you are not as feeble-minded as I had thought, so I give you credit where it’s due,” he said with a nod. “And I did not say an energy was a god, only that it had God-like qualities. I believe there is a larger force that moves through the universe and realms that we can not begin to understand. There are beings, such as Celestials, who have moved through time and space that I can not fathom. They are not Gods, but to someone smaller, they are. It just depends on your point of view, my dear.”

“You are Odin’s adopted son, are you not? That’s enough for me to call you brother,” she said. She tasted her food, found it delicious, and a smile crept across her lips. “And my point of view these days is to call no one and nothing ‘god’ unless they can prove it.”

He smiled and didn’t press the point of Odin. “What would have to be done to convince you of one’s Godhood?” he asked, cutting into his meat and taking the first bite.

She laughed out loud. “Honestly? Probably nothing, now. I wouldn’t say I’m quite a full unbeliever, because there’s always a miraculous outlier, but our community wasn’t completely isolated from the outside world. We had radios, a computer. We traded with some of the nearby larger towns. We were not ignorant of the events happening in the world at large, only saw it as precursors to Ragnarok. I know there are all sorts of individuals with so-called godlike powers on Earth now. Who is to say that anyone showing up, claiming to be a God, and demonstrating such powers is not an enhanced individual, a metahuman, or someone from another world or realm? No, I think I’m done with gods.” She dug into her food.

He nodded. “Very well, your understanding of the world is very practical. And I did not believe you cut off from the world. I knew very well what your little village and “clan” were capable of.” He continued to eat for a little while, then lifted his glass to his lips. “You do know that I have no intention of killing you, or harming you, correct?”

She arched a brow. “No,” she said flatly, the smile disappearing. “I don’t know that. You’ve said a few things that indicated you might consider otherwise. I swore an oath that said I would not fight you. That oath is automatically ended if I must defend myself. But I am not looking forward to such a thing, and I...hope it will not be necessary.” She eyed him for a moment, taking in the deep green eyes, the long sable hair, his sharp features, the perfection of his lean, sword-keen form. Her eyes dropped back down to her food and she inwardly cursed as she felt the heat of a blush stealing over her face. When she was not battling her own temper, it was difficult to ignore how handsome he was. Against her will, she thought back to the vow she had made, never to take a lover who had not defeated her in battle.

He had defeated her in battle.

But of course that’s ridiculous, she mused, cutting off any such strange, newborn emotions before they could fully manifest. He said he had need of me. I have to assume it’s not as a doxy.

He watched her as she spoke, how she treated him as an equal and at times--he felt--like she thought of him as beneath her. He pushed his plate back just a little as he looked at her. “I have no intention to do you harm. I would not destroy such a talented warrior.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled when he realized she was looking at him differently than before. The flush of her cheeks gave her away, but he said nothing and simply let her go back to her food. They were silent for several more moment until one of the servants came to refill their mead.

“Would you like to go meet the royal guard? I can arrange for you to train with them daily, if you would like?”

She looked up. Her plate was nearly empty, and after a moment, she nodded. “I...would like that. Thank you,” she said calmly, then gestured at the dress: the long sleeves, the trailing skirt. “But I can’t train in this, I’m afraid. Especially these sleeves.”

“Let Liv escort you back to your room so you can change there. I have more suitable clothing for you, already brought. Come back to the library when you are ready,” he said as he stood, then smiled at her. “And thank you for your company, Signy, it was most welcome and enjoyable,” he told her, then slipped out of the dining area, back to his library.

Signy watched him go, utterly bewildered. His behavior was utterly at odds with their first meeting barely two hours ago. He broke my damn arm then! she thought, but behaved now almost like a courting prince. She pushed away from the table; her plate was clean, her drinking stein empty. The mead sat easily on her stomach, no pangs of drunkenness or even a bit tipsy. A frown crossed her features and she folded up the cloth napkin and set it to the side of the plate. A glance cast around her showed the many volumes in the library, and she wondered if he had read them all; if he was as old as she suspected the Asgardians all were, he certainly would have had time to.

His mercurial behavior was troubling. He had said he intended her no harm, but she was unsure whether she could trust that statement; he had referenced his title as Lord of Lies himself.

She vowed to be on her guard, no matter how much he was trying to charm her, and turned to go back to her quarters.

Loki flipped open a book and thought of their conversation. She was very intelligent and he knew that his original plan was going to have to be adjusted as he went along. He had originally intended to beat obedience into her, but that would never work. Her will was too strong to bend to that sort of coercion. She might actually prove to be of some worth to him in the long run, he just had to readjust his thinking.

Signy was quiet as Liv escorted her back to her quarters. She had not been there long enough to sleep, and that meant there had been no chance of a dream to warn her of what Loki might intend. Once inside her room, she paced restlessly. Practice was good, it was always good, but she wanted something more. Her duties with training the youngsters back at the village had left her no time for herself lately, and she realized she was missing was her weekly sword-dancing practice. There was no room for it here, but perhaps they might let her practice elsewhere.

Back in the library, Loki looked over at Oda as she started to leave. “Oda, please call Bjordar and tell him I wish to speak to him regarding someone I would like to be admitted to training,” he said to her. 

Oda nodded. “Yes, m’lord, I’ll see to it right now,” she said and scurried away.

Signy picked up the sword she had taken before the battle that hadn’t happened. Olaf’s sword. Olaf was six and a half feet tall, a foot and a half taller than she was; the blade itself was a foot longer than her own blade. A normal human woman her size would have found it too heavy to wield, except maybe two-handed, but she managed it easily enough, moving to the furthest corner of the room for the extra space before working through the most basic round of thrusts, parries, slashes, and cuts. It was a serviceable enough blade--as good as her own, which the village blacksmith, Weyland, had made to replace her childhood blade when she turned 18--and afforded her some extra reach. She had practiced her sword-dancing with two blades before, although always with two blades of the same size; she had no doubt she could adapt her routines to something longer.

Her own gown hung washed and drying from a hook in one corner, and her mail apron lay on the bed where she had discarded it. She set aside Olaf’s blade, making a mental note to ask if she could get a sheath made for it, and picked up the apron. It was older--she had gotten it when she was fifteen--and a little short for her now, as well as being worn in places. The spot where Olaf had slashed across her belly had given up the ghost, and the links there where the scales overlapped had been cleaved through by his blade. It would take a talented repairman hours to fix it, and then add a few more inches down at the bottom so it would cover past her knees. She sighed, setting it aside.

Liv walked over to her and tapped her shoulder, then pointed to a chair that now sat near the wash basin. “He said that you would need those soon, and had someone bring them up,” she told her.  Across the chair was new Asgardian armor and an outfit made to fit her perfectly that almost mimicked the female warriors’ clothing, even down to the boots.

Signy nodded. “That was fast, thank you.” She picked up the outfit, examining it with care. It did not escape her attention that she was a good deal shorter than most full-blood Asgardians. The outfit had perhaps been made for a teen, someone still growing. Nonetheless, it pleased her, and she turned toward Liv. “I am going to go to the bathing room to change into this, if it is okay,” she said.

“Oh, of course, m’lady, whatever suits you best,” Liv told her. “Have you need of anything else?” she asked, turning when she reached the door.

Signy paused, then picked up Olaf’s sword. “Would it be possible to get a sheath made for this?” she asked politely.

“If you don’t mind me taking it to the smith?” Liv said as she walked over to her. “I’m sure they could have one ready by morning,” she told Signy.

“That would be fine,” Signy said. “It wasn’t my blade to begin with, but apparently it is now. And thank you.” She handed the sword over, hilt-first. “I appreciate the help.”

“You are most welcome, m’lady,” Liv smiled, and then rushed from the room, holding the sword carefully in front of her as she returned to the library.

Signy took the uniform that had been procured for her and went down the hall to the room where she had bathed, shutting the door behind her before stripping out of the soft gown. It was lovely, richer than anything she had ever worn before, but not suitable for battle--and battle was where she felt at home. She drew on the armor piece by piece--the black, leather-like bodysuit, the dark green metal armor tunic over it, the dark green boots, the bronze-looking armband that was a match to her own. She strapped on her own weapons belt, with the pouch at one hip that held oil and whetstone for her blades, extra bow cords and spare arrowheads and fletching and glue, leather cording, and minor repair tools, then affixed her sheathed sword to the belt. Her sheathed dagger went into her boot. She lamented the loss of her shield, her battleaxe, her bow and quiver and arrows and spear, but she had not had those things on her when Loki had brought her to Asgard; they had been left behind on the training field where she had met the youngsters.

She finished binding up her hair into a tight and serviceable knot so that it could not be easily grabbed, then pulled on the gloves and gauntlets last. “Better,” she said, turning to view herself in the mirror. She paused only to remove the heavy fabric tassels that swung from the armor’s hips, but took the rope of amber chips from her gown and donned them around her throat. “Much better,” she said, gathering up her gown and shoes and returning to her quarters with a confident, self-assured stride.

 

Loki looked up as Liv entered and approached him. “The lady Signy requested a sheath be made for this. Would you prefer I give it to you or to the smith?” she asked. He turned and laid the book down.

“Give it to me and I will take it to the smith, I will want something… special for this,” he told her. Liv handed the blade over and departed with a bow.

The smith, Wyborn, who was a bear of a man at almost seven feet tall and over 200 pounds, looked at the sword, then Loki. “A Midgardian made this? And you want the sheath to be adorned with your colors?” he asked.

Loki nodded, “Green and black, and adorn one side with fox and the other with wolf," Loki said, and smiled up at the man. “Signy is a strong woman and she deserves a sheath to match her,” he told the smith.

“Oh, of course, m’lord. I will have it ready in the morn after we break our fast.”

Loki nodded a thank you and then walked over to where most of the guard practiced. He clasped his hands in front of him and gave a nod to Sif, then moved to speak to Tyr. “I will be sending down a guest very soon. She is of Asgardian and Midgard blood, but I think you will find her most surprising. Her name is Signy and she is my guest while here on Asgard. I would ask that you allow her to practice, train and hone her skills.”

Sif gave him a cool look but nodded curtly. “Midgardian? I suppose we will have to baby her. We could start her against a scullery maid, perhaps,” she said.

Tyr was more courteous. “Do you have an estimate of her skills, Lord?” he asked quietly. The oldest cousin of Odin, captain of the guard, met Loki’s gaze calmly.

“I think she would be at my level, possibly almost a match if we were to go head to head and I used no magic,” Loki told him honestly. “She is most skilled and her strength, I believe, would out match most of our female warriors easily,” he told him.

Tyr merely nodded, but Sif’s eyes went wide as she listened. “You say she is also of Asgardian blood?” she demanded. “Who claims her as parent?”

“That is not anything I wish to disclose yet. I want to make sure that I am correct. So far I personally have no doubts, but I will not bring up anything until it is confirmed.” He glanced over at Sif, then to Tyr. “She should be down shortly, once she has changed into her armor.”

Tyr nodded. “I will take her under my wing, Lord. We can start her against one of the Einherjar, perhaps, then the Valkyrior.” He glanced at Sif. “Perhaps, if she can best them, we can try her against yourself.”

“Fine,” the woman warrior said sternly. “We shall see how well she can do.”

Loki smiled, “Thank you, Tyr, I believe you will be very pleased with her skills,” he said then he bid Sif a slight bow of his head then walked back toward the palace and his library.

 

 

Signy returned to her quarters, looking around. As Loki had said when they first arrived, someone had brought bedding, and there were clean sheets on the bed, two pillows, several woolen blankets, and a heavy bearskin coverlet for colder nights. She nodded to herself and ran a hand over the bearskin. It was thick, heavy, and would provide plenty of warmth, but she had never felt a connection to the bears of the berserkers. She fought with her head, her attacks cool and rational; she had seen what happened when fighters let their rage get the best of them in battle. Mistakes were common and deaths unfortunately easy.

Signy came down to the salle a short time later, led by Liv. She thanked the woman and slowly approached the practice area; everyone she could see was at least half a foot taller than she was, and the men, at least, were all far more muscular than she was. The thought intimidated her not at all; she had beaten bigger opponents before, though they had all been mortal.

Loki went to a different area of the castle, waiting as he watched her head down. He wanted to see how she fared among the Asgardians.

Tyr nodded to her, “I am Tyr. Loki speaks highly of your skills. I would ask you where you would like to start your training, m’lady. Sword? Spear? Bow?” he asked her.

Signy nodded respectfully to him, recognizing the name from lore, and somehow managing not to visibly react, despite what she had told Loki. “I am trained in daggers, short sword, long sword, double-sword techniques, short bow, long bow, crossbow, spear, sword and shield, battleaxe, and sword-dancing. Sling, too, but that’s a child’s weapon. Weaponless, I was taught in wrestling and boxing, but none of the martial arts forms from the East in my world. Sword is my favored weapon, though, so perhaps there?”

He blinked and then looked at her surprised, “You have trained in every form of combat? Is there such need on Midgard for this training? Or did you study all forms as a student studies their best subjects?” He gave her a nod. “Sword it is then. Shall we, m’lady?”

“My community on Midgard revered the Asgardians as gods, even in this modern era,” she said. “All able-bodied adults were expected to train as warriors for Ragnarok, men and women alike. Especially me. I was given the task of training younger warriors by the time I was 18.” She nodded at his invitation. “Who shall I test myself against first? I imagine you will want to start me off with the lowest and newest.”

“Given the repertoire of skills you claim, I think we had better start with me,” he said with a smile. “Why not start at the top, and then move downward? If you are close to my skill or by some chance best me, then I think you have proven yourself most worthy. I look forward to our combat,” he told her, escorting her to the sword ring.

She arched a brow, but nodded. If she was nervous about facing him, she didn’t show it, setting her shoulders and lifting her head. She followed him to the sword ring, one hand on her sword hilt, conscious that most other practice had stopped, and how many sets of eyes were on her. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall--taller than Loki, a full foot and a half taller than her--so that meant her speed would have to be her ally against his longer reach. She cracked her neck, flexed her arms and shoulders, cracked her knuckles, and bent her knees, limbering up for the bout. There was a faint smile on her face as they entered the ring, and she drew her sword.

He stretched his arms, neck and legs as well and then gave her a nod. “Volstagg, call the points,” he called out to him. “Flat of your sword to hit an opponent. You may be injured but not killed,” he told her and then took his stance. 

Volstagg looked at both of them and let out a shout, a call to begin.

Signy moved with blinding speed, running and then springing into the air off one foot to propel herself through the space between them like a frog on cocaine, swinging the sword with the flat of her blade to slap out at the upper part of his sword-arm, smashing the blade into his arm as hard as possible to force him to drop the sword. Her blow connected and she sailed past him, hitting the ground with both feet and rebounding to tumble past him in a somersault, the sword singing out again, connecting with the back of his knees in a forceful blow to knock his legs out from under him. She heard both grunts and leapt up, whirling around behind him, her heart beating swiftly as she swung again, the blade lashing out so that its flat connected horizontally across the back of his shoulders with a loud crack.

She moved like the wind and it was hard for him to keep up with her. She had three hits on him before he was able to get a grasp of how she fought, but when he did, he was able to deflect several of her next moves, crouching more, using his blade in a more defensive matter. He then used the blade to block a strike and then hit her arm with his wrist bracer, throwing her off balance, and then he brought the sword against her hip, the flat hitting her solidly. He then swung around in an arc, hitting the opposite side shoulder with the flat of his sword.

Cheers and shouts went up around them, the females rooting for Signy, the men shouting for Tyr.

She was going to have bruises tomorrow, for certain, but as nearly as she could tell, he was still holding back, not using his full strength. Her jaw tightened; perhaps he wasn’t taking the bout seriously. Even as his sword was swinging back from her shoulder, she rolled, right between his legs, and balled the hand that held no sword into a fist, pistoning it as hard as she could directly up between his legs, hard enough that it would have shattered coconuts. There was no armor there, and she rolled back again before he could react, leaping to her feet, swinging out with the flat of her sword even as his body reacted, and clocking him as hard as she could to the back of his skull. I’ll ring his chimes for him. He might not know her own personal code, but she was going to do everything she could not to lose this battle. There was no way she intended to be bed-bait for two total strangers.

She was good, very good. He had been holding back, but now, after her very low blow, which made him see red, he gave her his full strength and attention. His blows came fast and heavy, and he held nothing back. He slashed, hacked, used feet and arms and continued his assault without letting up. She held her own for longer than he expected, but after several blows to her shoulders, legs and hips, he twisted and took her legs from under her, and as her back hit the ground, he pressed his sword to her throat. “You are a hellion, m’lady, but you have been bested.” He then moved the sword aside, sheathed it, and offered his hand to her.

Loki had watched it all from his vantage point on the balcony, and his pleasure was far greater than what he allowed to show on his face. Perfect, he thought avidly. If this is what she's like given only training on Midgard, what will she be like once she has honed those skills among the warriors here?

Signy’s face showed no expression at all as she reached up to accept Tyr’s hand and got to her feet. She forced herself to move with most of the same grace and speed as usual, showing none of the stiffness or pain she felt. “So I have,” she said hoarsely, taking a deep breath. “For only the second time in my life, Lord Tyr. You were holding back at first, were you not?” She made herself ask simple questions, normal conversation, but what she wanted more than anything was a hot bath, hot tea, compresses for her aches, and sleep. She was not entirely sure nothing was broken, but she would not be able to tell for certain until she got back to her room and removed her armor.

“Aye, that I did, but rest assured, you fought very well,” he said, and there was a chorus of cheers. “You have earned your rest and I will be assured to tell Loki just how impressive you were today. Come to me tomorrow morn, after you break your fast, and we will begin some training for you, if that is your wish.” He called out to a young woman and waved her over.

“Lyda, see to it that Lady Signy has a hot bath prepped as well as compresses and healing stones for her wounds, please?” 

The girl hurried forward with a nod, and with a tired sigh, Signy followed her. It was not every day that she found herself being beaten mercilessly, yet the day was barely past lunchtime and she had been defeated twice. She wondered if she had left any bruises at all on Tyr; he had not fallen when she had punched him in his nethers, nor even seemed to have been limping. It was discouraging, but she had to remind herself that she was only half Asgardian, the other half weakling human. Still, the second defeat in less than four hours burned bitterly in her gut, and she was silent as she followed Lyda. She could already feel the skin on her arms, back, shoulders, hips, and legs puffing and turning black.

Lyda went about getting her a hot bath ready and then left Signy to undress while she put different things on the small table in Signy’s room for her to use.

“M’lady, there are compresses and oils as well as some fruit, cheese and wine for you. If you require anything else, I will be just down the hall until Liv returns from having her afternoon meal,” she said with a slight nod to Signy before she disappeared from the room.

Signy let out a groan of relief as the other woman disappeared. Once the door had closed, she dragged the room’s only chair over to hook the chair-back under the doorknob, then returned to sink down onto her bed with a wince.


	4. Bittersweet Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the training bout with Tyr, admissions slip out, leading to a return to Midgard.

It took Signy twenty minutes to unbuckle all the straps and pieces that held the armor on, and slowly remove it. She was stiffening up quite rapidly; although Loki had broken her arm when they fought, she actually counted that the lesser battle. Every inch of her skin where Tyr had struck her had turned black and blue, and in places, the skin was broken, leaking blood into the soft cotton padding under the armor. The cloth acted almost like a bandage, soaking up the incriminating stains. Some of the armor was hard to remove; the flesh underneath had swelled up so much that it took an application of the oils Lyda had brought to lubricate the armor enough to slide it off.

She was fairly certain nothing was broken, because she could still move, and none of her limbs hung at bad angles, but nonetheless, everything hurt so much that a simple bone break like the one Loki had inflicted would have been better. She limped to the bathtub, no longer hiding the pain, little hisses and whimpers escaping her lips. It took her several tries to lift her leg over the lip of the tub and climb in, simply because it hurt so bad to lift it that much.

She laid in the hot water until it began to grow cold, not moving, just letting the heat sink into her tortured muscles. There were several injuries she was certain--having had them before--were torn muscles, ligaments, or tendons, but she had found soft tissue wounds tended to heal faster than broken bones, thanks to her Asgardian ancestry.

Only when the water was so cold that it was no longer comforting in the slightest did she very carefully get out, wrap herself in a towel, and hobble over to the bed. She ate just a bit of the fruit, and drank all the wine; it would not be enough to get her drunk, but she was certain it would help her sleep, at least a bit.

There was a soft rap at the door, and then Loki’s voice came from the other side. “Signy, may I step inside?” he asked.

Her head jerked up in surprise and then she hissed in pain. “Didn’t know I had a bruise there,” she muttered under her breath, poking cautiously at the back of her neck. “Uh...just a moment. I barred the door while I bathed.” She sat up slowly, tossing aside the towel, and reached for the robe, pulling it on loosely and tying it at the waist so she would not be completely naked. There was no way she could get any of the dresses on in a reasonable amount of time to avoid suspicion, even if they would hide more of the bruises. With a wince, she hobbled to the door and pulled the chair back from it, then stepped back. “Come in.”

He stepped just inside the door, “I wanted to check on you. Tyr told me that you put on quite the battle display today. You have earned the respect of everyone who watched you, including Tyr,” he said with a smile. “And he also said you might need assistance and I came to offer it to you,” he said as he moved a few steps closer. “I am well versed in healing magics and I can heal your wounds so that they are far less painful, if you would allow it,” he said as he held his hands out to her.

She took a deep breath. “I cannot lie and say I would turn my nose up at that,” she said baldly. “But...I’d like to know the cost, first.”

“You have to let me touch you?” he said with an arched brow. “I require nothing from you. If you would like for me to be honest, to hear Tyr speak so highly of you was all I needed to hear. He suggested you may need use of my healing. Not everything comes with stipulations, my dear.”

She nodded, then, a bit stiffly. “But I need to sit,” she said shortly, managing a shrug out of sheer bravado. She said nothing more, not wanting him to think she was whining; it was bad enough she had lost the battle to Tyr.  
The last thing she wanted was for Loki’s opinion of her to go lower than it already was. The shrug dislodged the shoulder of her loosely-tied robe, and it began to slide down her arm, revealing the deep black and purple bruising there. 

“Oh my,” he said, shocked that she was even moving with such injuries. He waited for her to sit and he walked over to stand behind her. “I am going to lay my hands on your shoulders, nothing more. You will feel heat and you may feel it as your body mends itself. I am only using magic to make your body heal faster, nothing more,” he explained. He gently laid his hands on her shoulders, eyes closing as he felt the heat from her wounds, but also the silky softness of her skin. He closed his eyes and let the magic flow out of him, willing her body to start its healing.

She had sank down onto the bed, and as he first touched her, she stiffened in pain. But then a wave of heat swept through her, much like that from the hot bath, and she could not hold back the moan of relief that emerged from her, carried on a sigh. She closed her eyes, hoping he would chalk up the certain redness she felt creeping through her skin to his magic and its effects, and not any other reaction to his touch. His fingers were deft, far gentler than she had guessed, and for a moment, she dared to wonder what was the ‘use’ he had spoken of needing for, and how bad it must be, to have driven him to murder almost everyone in her village in order to get to her.

Because now, she guessed, if he had approached more peacefully, she was beginning to think she might have come with him willingly.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re most welcome,” he said and then leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “You should be very proud of yourself. I am sure you are rethinking your defeat and planning how hard you will train so that it won’t happen again, but there is no need for that. You are held with high respect already among those here in Asgard. You should take pride in that,” he told her and then he moved from the bed to look at her. “Is there anything else you would request of me?” he asked.

She managed not to look up at him with the fire in her loins burning in her eyes, taking a deep breath and shoving it down before she met his gaze. I will not sleep with a murderer! I will not fall in love with someone who destroyed my village! I will not fight him, but...oh, how I wish it had gone differently. “Not...at this time,” she said hoarsely, her voice not quite cracking. The kiss had surprised her quite badly, even only on top of her head. “But thank you.”

He paused, tilting his head. “Is something wrong? Are you still hurting?” he asked her. There was something in her voice that made him take note that she wasn’t comfortable. Her cheeks were a bit flushed but he had healed her and he knew that could have brought the color to her face.

“No,” she said quietly. “The pain is almost gone, thank you.” She swallowed hard and looked up at him and then the words spilled out, completely against her volition. “Why did you kill almost everyone in my village? If you had approached me like this, it’s very likely I would have gone with you willingly.” Even as the last word fell, she gasped, shocked, and clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes gone wide.

He gazed at her for a few moments before he spoke. “Because I was unsure how it would go. Most of my interactions with Earth haven’t been on the best of terms, as I am sure you know. I wasn’t sure if you knew of me, or if you still truly thought us Gods. And I will admit that I wanted you afraid of me. I wanted you to come without a fight, and that is part of the reason I did what I did,” he kept his gaze on her and did not look away. He had told her the truth, and that irked him. What was it about her that made him want to be honest with her? He would mull over it in his mind later.

So. She thought about his words for a moment, and then looked up at him. “I would never have been afraid of you,” she said quietly. “No matter what you did. At most, I would have been wary. I don’t know how to be afraid. All it did was make me furious. And that is not a good way to start anything, God of Mischief.” The word was bitter on her tongue. What he had done was more than mischief; it was murder. But when had the so-called “gods” ever considered humans worth anything? “I don’t know what you want me here for. You spoke of a ‘use’ for me, but I don’t have any confidence you’ll ever let me know what that is. I can thank you for healing me and still don’t know if I would celebrate to see you dead. I see things about you, things you do, things you say, that directly contradict other things you’ve said and done, and I don’t know what to make of it. But what do I know? I’m not a ‘god’.” She didn’t spit the last word, but the tone it came out in was very, very bitter indeed.

“And I am not a God. I believe we had this discussion. While I am not human, that doesn’t mean that I am above making a mistake, or changing my mind. You do not believe in Gods. I believe that leaves us with just ourselves, doesn’t it? Sometimes I have a plan and it changes. I never think that any plan is set in stone because everything is always in flux. If I said you were not what I expected, would that soothe your mind?” he asked her. “If I told you that I do not want to see you hurting or injured, would that change things? I gave you the truth.”

“I was tasked to protect my village,” she said, her voice not more than a hollow whisper. “I failed.” So far, she had kept the shock at bay, kept the tears away, but they threatened now, and because of that, she kept her face tilted away from him. “When I was younger--ten, twelve--they thought to make me a babysitter. I have no true fondness for children, I would not do that, but I said I would train the young ones to fight. It took me years to prove I was worthy of that task, worthy of protecting the village, and...well, I was not, was I?” Her fists clenched against her lap. “I am glad my mother was already dead so she could not see her faith in me destroyed.” It was beginning to sink in. She would never see her village again, never see so many familiar faces again, maybe never see Earth again. She had left behind a small band of children--none older than sixteen--to gather up the bodies of the slain and burn them, to rebuild the village if they could, to guard against wolves and bears and human predators. How long, she wondered, before they were all dead? Less than a dozen children, some no older than ten, and they could not raise the crops and hunt for food alone. There were no cars or vehicles to take them from the town where they had been born to some city in the outside world, and even if there had been, none who knew how to drive one. 

She had come with Loki to save the children, but in truth, they were already dead. They just didn’t know it yet. 

He strode over to her and he took her shoulders gently. “Look at me,” he commanded, and when her gaze lifted he spoke. “What I did was not your fault. Magic cannot be fought with strength and steel. What happened to your people was no fault of yours, it was mine. I killed them because I thought I must. You protected the children, do you understand? You will not blame yourself for what I did.”

Signy looked up at him at last, dispassionately, having forced the despair out of her gaze. “They’ll die anyway. Winter’s on its way. Some of those kids were no older than ten. They won’t be able to raise the food they need to get through the winter, or get to the nearest big town. They’ll be able to build a pyre for their grandparents and parents and older siblings, and put them to rest, maybe...but then they can join them.”

Loki frowned and let loose a curse. “Dress in your armor, hurry, I will be outside the door waiting,” he told her and then turned on his heel and left the room.

Signy frowned, more than a little confused. Was it time for training again already? Shock and fatigue were robbing her of her ability to think clearly. She had been looking forward to some sleep first, but...with a shake of her head, she got to her feet, gingerly, testing her body. The pain had mostly receded, and what little was left was only a ghostly echoe of the actual beating she had taken. She grimaced as she picked up the bits of her armor, cleaning them as best as she could, and then pulled them on, strapping and fastening the pieces into place. She buckled on her sword and tucked the sheathed dagger into her boot, though he had not said anything about bringing them. Her hair was a wet, tangled mess that she did not want to waste time combing and re-braiding; even at its best, it took half an hour or more to do. She let it hang heavy and messy as she stepped out into the hall.

Loki was waiting for her when she stepped into the hall. He looked over at her and he might have smiled were the situation not as it was. He held his hand out for her. “We are heading back to Earth. You should wrap your arms around my waist and hold tight,” he told her.

Signy fought to keep her expression neutral at his words. Some part of her wanted to do so and take joy from it. Some part of her was revolted by the mere thought. But she had sworn an oath, and she kept her word, reaching out to take the hand he held out to her, her other arm going tight around his waist, her fingers locking around the belt he wore. For a moment, she wondered why they were returning to Earth.

It had been a very long day, and it was not remotely over yet.

Loki put an arm around her shoulder and there was a flash, the light streaking around them, and then they were on the outskirts of her village once more. The funeral pyres were already set and there was an eerie silence around them. “We will round the children up and we will take them to Asgard. I will make arrangements for them to have rooms outside the palace and you will continue to train them if you wish, or you may give their training over to some of the Asgardians. They are your charges,” he told her. “Round them up,” he said as they began their walk into the village.

She looked at him with something very akin to horror. “Are you mad?” she demanded. “After all the trauma they’ve been through, how do you think they’re going to react, to feel, when they see you coming back? For that matter, what do you think they’ll think when they see me stroll in at your side? They’ll think you’ve come back to finish the task, and me enchanted at your side to serve as Judas goat.”

“Or they will listen to you because I am a God. They are being given the chance to live on Asgard. They will not grow up on this damn disgusting dying planet, and you are going to let them throw a fit because they don’t trust you or I? Fine, let them die here, it will not upset me in the least. Are you ready to go?” he asked her, brows arched.

She drew back from him in undisguised shock. “Let me take them to the nearest city,” she asked quietly, her voice shaking. “They’ll be taken care of there. In Asgard, they’ll never be anything other than thralls. At best.”

“Well, that is your decision to make how they live their lives,” he said, then nodded. “If you want to take them to the city, we will do so, give me a few moments and I will change my appearance and we will go take them wherever you would like,” he said as he left her quickly, disappearing into the tree line.

Signy let out a deep breath, relieved. The others in the village had considered her taciturn, but she had simply been very good at controlling her emotions. Loki, though--it drove her nearly crazy, his mood swings, how swiftly he whiplashed from being reasonable, even--almost-- affectionate, to being raging and nearly homicidal. Her hands were trembling and she curled them into fists, trying to get her anxiety under control. Olderfjord was closest, about 25 miles to the east, and they weren’t the biggest town around, but they had an airfield. The children could be flown to Alta, in the southwest, the closest city with a population over 10,000. This far North--they were right near the Arctic circle--there were few municipalities of any size, and the country’s capital, Oslo, was nearly all the way at the southern tip of the country, almost 1900 kilometers away--an entire day’s drive by car, or three hours by plane.

Olderfjord would have to do.

She watched the treeline, waiting for him to return. Taking the children to the city would part them from the life they had lived here, but at least they would live. And privately, she thought perhaps it would be better if they grew up in the modern world, no longer worshiping the ‘gods’. 

He came back then wearing the same armor that she had seen some of the other soldiers in, not as regal as his other clothes but similar to hers. His face was more tanned, his body a bit more muscular, and his hair a lighter brown with a hint of curls. He strode toward her with the same confidence. “We will tell the children that you were claimed by the Gods, and that you have been chosen to serve with the Valkyrie. We will make sure they have the best schooling and training available to them in Asgard and I will make sure that they know the God of Mischief was responsible for the attack and has been punished. These children deserve better than the filth of Midgard. There are many families who will take them in, families of honor and wealth. Let us go gather them.”

He had changed his mind. Again. They would be taken to Asgard no matter what she wanted. A wave of weary resignation swept through her, and her voice was low as she fell into step at his side. “There is one, at least, I do not want to come with us to Asgard,” she said reluctantly. “The oldest boy, Olaf. There would be… problems.”

He paused, holding his hand out for her. “What do you suggest, then?” He waited for her to place her hand in his, the now blue-black eyes gazing at her intently.

She put her hand in his. “He will have to go to the city,” she sighed. “He...has...set his sights on me. It won’t work, for too many reasons to go into, not the least of which is that he will never be able to meet the standards I have set for myself to take a lover.”

“Very well then, we will take him to the city, the others we will make sure to place in Asgard, and I give you my word they will grow up as respected members of good houses.”

She glanced over at Loki uncertainly. She had been sure, for a moment, that he would ask her questions about what she had said, and now she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or annoyed that he had not. Relieved, she decided, because it would be both embarrassing to go into...and he might see it as a challenge.

After all, he had already beaten her in battle.

She managed not to shudder. “All right, then,” she said quietly. “As you will.”

He was silent for the first few steps then he glanced over at her, “And what do you require of a lover, Signy? What must you accomplish before you take a lover?”

She grimaced. Dammit. “It’s not what I have to accomplish,” she said tersely. “It’s what they have to do. And I don’t want to talk more on this.”

He glanced at her again. “Do I make you nervous?” he asked, a smile slipping across his handsome features. “Don’t tell me you like them strong but dumb, do you?” he asked her.

“Nervous? No. And strong but dumb?” She turned her head and spat onto the ground. “No idiot will ever touch me that way. They wouldn’t be able to.”

“Well then, tell me what man could turn your head? What do you require of a man that wishes to court and woo you?” he asked, “I think it’s a fair question.”

Her grimace deepened. “So far, no man has ever sought to woo me, only bed me. They think it a challenge. I...discouraged that thinking,” she muttered. “I won’t be a trophy for any man. I made sure of that.”

“And what if a man found you intriguing, and found that your strength was as beautiful as you are? What if you found a man who wanted a partner, an equal at his side rather than a trophy or a mate to breed? What would you say to him? How would you know what he thought of you, if you never let him tell you?”

“I can’t stop people from saying what they want to say,” she said tersely. “I don’t have to listen to it, though.” Her teeth ground together. The words coming out of his mouth were enough to make every muscle in her body tighten up. She could not think of a time when she had been so tense, so wound up, and not because of passion, but because she was afraid he would find some way to force her to say what she had so long ago decreed for any man she would accept, and then...and then…

It was maddening. He had already beaten her in battle. She found him attractive, and hated herself for doing so. There was no way to turn back the clock and bring back the people he had killed.

She had sworn an oath that she would no longer fight him, or try to kill him.

It was herself she was fighting with.

He could feel her tense up and he glanced over at her. “But you have listened, and you tense at that realization, and you don’t like that you might have to admit that you might have found a man who makes you want to know what happens now, am I correct?” he asked, his hand still holding hers, not letting her pull it away.

“Don’t,” she said hoarsely. “Don’t...do this. I don’t care if you--” She bit the words off, the admission that he had bested her, that last step that would give him license to pursue her. She swung away, tugging her hand from his, wrapping her arms around her shoulders, taking a deep breath. For a moment, she wished it was February, the depths of winter here, so that she could make herself as cold as she needed to be, body and soul, to resist him.

He came up behind her, his arms on her shoulders, leaning in so the heat of his breath washed over her ear. “I think you are the most radiant creature I have ever seen, and watching you move with a sword, watching your eyes burn with rage, and seeing the way you think, hearing your words has changed what my intentions were. I wanted to hate you, I wanted to dislike you and there you stood among the fire, ready to face me with a sword and looking every bit as dangerous as the Lady Sif,” he said, his voice smooth, like dragging silk over her skin.

She closed her eyes, shuddering. The feel of his hands on her shoulders, the heat of his breath, his voice, all threatened to tear away her will and replace it with nothing but lust. Listening to him whisper in her ear was like taking home a barrel of mead and draining it in a night--intoxicating, dizzying, weakening. She tried one last time, knowing if he kept on, her will would crumble. “Do not do this thing, Loki of the Jotuns,” she whispered.

“Would you think I would give up so easily? That I would risk losing a treasure such as yourself?” he asked, his lips brushing over the crest of her ear. “I will not let you go, Signy, my Ylva.”

A sound escaped from her, small, as something inside her gave way and what strength she had left dissolved, leaving her limbs feel as weak as melting ice. She knew, she just knew, she would regret this later; even as she turned back toward him, she remembered his words. He said she would live until he had completed his use of her. That implied that, when he was done with her, she would die.

But it wasn’t enough to resist him.

He reached out and slid a hand at the back of her neck and pulled her close, his mouth closing over hers in a soft kiss, tentative at first, a brush of his lips over hers, then his other hand came up to her cheek. “You’ve made me a fool,” he said, then kissed her harder.

She moaned, trembling uncontrollably, fire sweeping through her in a way she had never felt before. She pulled back from the kiss, face flushed, eyes huge. “How...did I know…?” She shook her head. “I swore the day I turned fifteen I would never bed a man who had not first defeated me in battle.”

He cupped her face and leaned in to kiss her again. He loved the look in her eyes and he could feel the heat as her skin heated in reaction to him. He had a fire racing through his own blood, his pants immediately feeling too constricting for him. He nibbled gently at her lips. “And I would never accept a simple-minded woman who wanted nothing more than a man to take care of her as my partner. I want someone like you, with quick wit, and no tolerance for bullshit,” he grinned against her lips.

“Signy?” a familiar voice came from behind her.

Signy turned, and Olaf stood perhaps a dozen yards away, the other children with him. They were dirty, hands covered in soot, black smudges on their faces from the funeral pyres. Olaf, at the front, was staring at her in Loki’s arms, a look of growing betrayal on his face.

Loki stepped to the side of Signy, but kept an arm around her. His eyes locked with the teen and he could see the anger and jealousy in the boy’s eyes. Loki didn't flinch but smiled. “Hello, everyone.”

“Who is this?” Olaf demanded, anger in his voice. “And why are you letting him touch you?”

Signy covered her eyes with one hand and let out a breath. “I told you there’d be problems,” she muttered, as quietly as she could.

“My name is Ulfric, and I am a member of the King's guard. And Signy will choose to let whoever she wishes to touch her.” He did not back down, Olaf was little threat.

“King’s Guard?” Heidi, one of the girls, asked her, frowning.

Signy sighed. “I was...taken to Asgard,” she said. “I was chosen to become a member of the Valkyrior.” She hated how the lie felt on her tongue. She cast a glance over her shoulder at Loki and something mischievous spiked in her gaze. “Ulfric, here, is my personal manservant.”

Loki looked at her and a smile slipped over his features. “I am. I do whatever my lady asks of me. It could be as simple as assisting her in training or helping her cook her food.”

Signy looked at the children gravely. “Most of you will be coming with me, back to Asgard. You will receive training, and we will find people--Asgardians--for you to live with. New homes.” Her mouth was dry. “Some of you will stay here on Earth. We will take you to Olderfjord, so you can be adopted.”

Olaf’s eyes flashed. “I don’t want to--won’t--go to Asgard,” he growled, his eyes still on the spot where Loki’s arm wrapped around her waist, where his hand lingered on her hip.

“Why then, you won’t,” Signy said quietly. She had never found any attraction to the younger boy, who had followed her like a pup since he had entered training. But he had always refused to give up, tenacious as a dog trying to seize a bone.

Most of the children seemed to be surprised, in awe, but there were others, the older children who looked at Signy and Loki as if they were lying and leading them to their death, and some were just too sad over the death of their parents to care.

Loki looked right at Olaf. “I would have you show better manners to your teacher, youngling,” he said, his eyes darkening as he looked at the child.

Olaf bristled. “Asgardian or not, I don’t take orders from you,” he spat. “Teacher? Tease! And then she ran away with the monster that murdered my family. That killed all our families. And she stole my sword!” His complaints clearly masked the real reason for his spite, rage for what he couldn’t have.

“The villagers were dead before I ever got there,” Signy said quietly. “I let myself be taken away, because it was the only thing I could do to keep you all from being killed as well. You dropped your sword in a panic and I grabbed it to use to defend you. I didn’t have a chance to return it before I was taken away, and I don’t have it with me now, I’m sorry. I’ll see if I can return it when I get it back.”

“Don’t bother,” Olaf said. “I never want to see it--or you--ever again.”

Loki looked over at her, “Don’t let it eat at you, you know why he’s reacting as he did,” he told her, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“I know,” she said, in a quiet voice that was a little more than a whisper.

Rage flared in Olaf’s eyes as Loki kissed Signy’s cheek, his fists curling at his sides. “Get your hands off her!” he hissed.

A few of the younger children clung to the older ones and several boys stepped up toward Olaf. “Don’t do this, it’s not wise,” the next oldest boy told him.

“You are trying my patience, Olaf,” Signy said. “You have never earned the right to dictate what I do with my life. And you know why that is. Or do I need to demonstrate it again?” Her stomach was burning with acid, with frustration, but all she wanted to do was be done with this, and Olaf was not making it easy. “If you have no care or thought for me, think of the others. You are scaring the younger ones.” She offered them a patient smile.  
“Elsa, Heidi, Einar, Bjorn… come here. Dagmar, Erik.” She waved them toward her, and the younger ones scampered over to her side, the littlest girl--just ten, and shy--clasping her belt with her hands.

Loki looked at some of the older children who walked over, offering a hand to the older boys and girls. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said as they introduced themselves. “We’re most excited to have you join us in Asgard,” he told one of the girls who was a stunning beauty with dark hair and bright blue eyes.

“Just...go away,” Olaf muttered.

Signy rolled her eyes and half-glanced at Loki. “Olderfjord is 25 kilometers that way,” she said, pointing. “Can you take him there, now, while I help the other children gather their things? He’s...distracting.”

Loki smiled. “As you wish, m’lady,” he said amusedly as he gave her a nod and a smile. He looked at Olaf then. “Shall we, Olaf?” he asked as he took several steps away from Signy and toward Olaf.

“Don’t touch me,” Olaf snapped.

A muscle twitched in Signy’s jaw. “Olaf, go with him, or...I swear, I’ll beat you senseless and have him take you like that.” A few of the other children looked shocked. “I was never going to bed you. Get it through your head. I don’t belong to you. I’m not bedding Ulfric, either, so you can get the idea that he somehow stole me from you out of your head.” She was seconds away from well and truly losing her temper, and glanced over at Loki. “Don’t kill him.”

“I would never,” he said to her in honesty. He looked at Olaf. “You can come with me, or I can carry you there, tied up. The choice is yours. Lady Signy has been more than patient and tolerant of your behavior. I am not required to be so patient.”

The boy screamed in rage and charged them, fists flailing. Signy sighed and sidestepped just enough for the boy to go rushing between the sudden gap between her and Loki, and she spun then, kicking Olaf in the ass and sending him sprawling. “Done now,” she muttered, yanking the leather cord out of her hair. She dropped down and straddled the boy’s back before he could get back up, tying his wrists behind his back. “Take him,” she said, shaking her head. “We’ll be here with the littles and their things when you get back.”

“Absolutely, m’lady,” Loki said as he produced another leather strip from his pocket to wrap around the boy’s ankles before easily picking him up to toss over his shoulder. It was amusing to play the manservant, to watch her take charge. To see her show this side of her face, back in her--mostly--familiar element.

With a sigh, she turned away from them, waving the other children closer to her and walking them back to the village to gather their things. Olaf’s obsession had clearly grown out of control, and though she hated herself for what felt like abandoning him, she was glad to wash her hands of him. Who knows what he might get up to if they took him with them to Asgard?


	5. Truth and Consequences

It was almost two hours before the kids had their things packed, and they returned to the outer edge of the field, waiting for Loki to return. She had answered any question the kids had put to her, and there had been more than a few, but most had just asked about what Asgard was like and the families they would be fostered with there.

Loki arrived back after about two and a half hours. He walked directly to Signy when he arrived, pulling her aside just slightly. “I used a bit of magic to make him forget much of the past few days, and took him to a hospital, told the doctors I found him wandering. I hope that is acceptable?” he asked, looking at her.

“That’s actually perfect, thank you,” she sighed, relieved. “Right now I just want to get the kids back where we’re going and then sleep for a week. This has been a very long day.” She had used the time he was away to get a better grasp on her emotions, doing everything she could to smash her attraction down with both feet and shove it into a tiny box at the back of her head. Her words to him were neither rude nor curt, just matter-of-fact, without the slightest trace of anything personal to them.

He looked down as the youngest of the group walked over and tapped his arm. “Do we go to Asgard now?” she asked.

He knelt down to one knee. “We absolutely are, my little lady,” he told her, then stood and hoisted her up into his arms, turning to the other children. “Are you all ready to go?” he asked them. Even as he looked at them, he realized it was his fault that all of them had no family.

There were nods and a chorus of ‘yes’s’, and Signy spoke up. “Okay, everyone grab hands,” she instructed them. She took the hand of one of the younger boys, then turned to take Loki’s hand. “Make it as gentle for them as you can? Most of them won’t have my iron stomach.” She looked at the kids as they all joined hands in a long chain. “This might make you feel a little dizzy, when we get there. It’s okay if you feel that way, or get sick. It’ll go away fast, it won’t last.”

“I will. Now if you feel sick, children, tip your heads back and look upward when we reach Asgard, okay?” He clasped Signy’s hand, making sure all the children were around them and holding hands. He looked to Signy, and then they were on their way to Asgard.

Signy felt no distress when they returned; she had felt almost nothing when they had popped from Asgard back to Earth, and she guessed her half-Asgardian metabolism had allowed her to adapt quickly. The same could not be said for all of the children; a few of them wobbled on their feet, and one younger boy promptly bent forward at the knees and threw up.

“It’s okay, Sven,” she soothed him, rubbing his back in slow circles. “It’ll subside, I promise.”

Loki took the time to soothe some of the others for a moment, then looked to her. “I will send for transport, give me a moment,” he said, disappearing around a corner. A few moments later he came back with two of his guards and a transport skimmer.

“All right, children, we’re going to go to the palace, mind your manners when we get there. I have called ahead to Tyr and he will have food ready for you, and then baths and new clothes.”

Signy helped guide the children aboard, sitting and chatting with them, still rubbing Sven’s back. Each of the children had a small bag with them with their most treasured possessions. Her stomach rumbled when Loki mentioned food, and she glanced up at him.

“Would you like to stay with the children? We have plenty of room near your quarters. Once we get to the dining area, you can slip away to change into something more comfortable for dinner,” he asked as he moved over to her, taking her hand and kissing it. 

“Do you remember I said, when I was younger, that the elders wanted me to watch the children--babysit--and I declined? That I wasn’t overfond of children?” she said, in the very quietest tone she could manage. “Children are a responsibility, a duty, but for me, not a joy. I will never choose to have any myself.”

“Very well then, Tyr and some of my servants have already made preparations and have started to reach out to friends and families,” he told her. “I am at your service, m’lady. After all, I am your humble manservant.”

She shot him a sharp look. “Please. We both know that’s not remotely true,” she said, still keeping her voice down. “I hope one day you’ll tell me what the ‘use’ is that you brought me here for, so I don’t inadvertently mess it up by doing something I don’t know I shouldn’t.”

“You already did that. I had every intention of hating you and...using you. As a weapon, a tool. A hostage,” he told her, then leaned in and kissed her quickly. “And the plans I have for you have changed. I have no serious plans other than to learn more about you, Signy.”

She drew back from him warily. “Why would you want me to hate you?” she murmured, hoping the children were taken away quickly. “And you know as much about me as you need to.”

“Reasons that I will share at some point, but not today,” he told her as the children were ushered out and they were alone. Once he heard the door close, he pulled her close, her body held tight against him, his lips at her ear. “I want you to enjoy your life here, and I want to know you more.”

She shuddered, instantly drawn into the whirlpool of his body heat, his scent, the scorching intensity of his gaze. “Loki…” she murmured, feeling his lips brush her earlobe, going dizzy from the rush of hormones. “I can’t...think clearly...when you touch me…” She pulled back. “Loki, it hasn’t even been a whole day. I don’t know how things work here, but...they don’t work like this on Midgard. Earth.” Her expression was desperate. “You say you want to know me more. I don’t know about you at all. Just that you’re Loki, adopted son of Odin, adopted brother to Thor--and that’s it.”

“You know that you are attracted to me, and that you want me. I knew that ever since we conversed at dinner, and then I saw you battle Tyr. I knew I had to find out more about you. I needed to know you better. I think it’s the same on Midgard as here. When you are attracted to someone you want to know more--and I want to know more,” he said as he brushed his lips over hers. “Is that wrong of me?”

“I mistrust the speed with which your emotions and motivations changed,” she said bluntly, shivering at the touch of his lips. “And at this point, I can’t trust my own emotions. I’ve never…” Her face contorted at the admission. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. Ever. Never--” Even as she said it, she realized she had just confessed her utter inexperience with matters of the heart and flesh to him, and she frowned in chagrin.

He continued to brush his lips over hers, a tease of a kiss. “A man can make a mistake,” he told her before listening to her admission. He smiled and then kissed her, pulling her close to him; he could feel her attraction to him and he hated to admit that it excited him. He wanted her to want him.

The touch of his mouth on hers made her head spin, set her soul on fire. She tried to bring her hands up, planting them on his chest to try to push him back, but then she could feel the ripple of muscle under his clothes, the hardness of the flesh there, and she groaned. Her heart was pounding faster than after any sparring bout or fight; her skin had gone hot and suddenly felt too tight. She gasped and her fingers curled against his chest, like a cat kneading its paws against something soft, and she wobbled on her feet, suddenly dizzy.

One hand stayed at her waist, holding her close as the other sank into her hair at the back of her head where he held her as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding over her lips, and then into her mouth, seeking her tongue and teasing it with his. He groaned as she responded to him and he pulled her tight against his body, giving her the first sign of how aroused she made him.

A soft moan rose up from her parted lips, even as her tongue toyed with his. She had no idea what she was doing; her mother had tried to give her ‘the talk’ once and Signy had stopped her in her tracks, making it very clear that she had no interest in either boys or girls, and was not planning to take a lover, ever. She regretted that now, body flush with heat, not knowing where to put her hands, or what to do. She had seen males naked before, mostly toddlers running around with no clothes on in the summer, playing in the mud; what she had seen didn’t jibe with what she felt between his legs, brushing her hips and thighs.

He slowed the kiss, not because he wanted to but he wanted her to crave his touch, to seek it out. He would not force her reactions. He was enjoying her innocence and her passion far too much to rush. He slowed the kiss. “Your heart is beating like a hummingbird, my sweet little wolf, catch your breath,” he said softly, kissing her forehead.

She gasped as he pulled away; having the source of her heat and rising passion suddenly removed physically hurt, and she wavered on her feet, managing a single step back. Her cheeks flamed and she tried looking anywhere at him; it was a shock to know how utterly her body had betrayed her. She looked around wildly; they were still standing in the hallway near her room, and her face went scarlet as she realized she was acting like a whore right out in the open where anyone could see them.

He cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look at him, “My sweet Signy, you will be my downfall, I swear,” he told her as he leaned in for another soft kiss. “I think I should let you collect your thoughts and I should collect myself and we will meet back at dinner, I will send Oda for you when it’s ready,” he said, then gave her another soft kiss.

She could only nod numbly. His quick changes of mood and decision were giving her whiplash. She took in a breath, trying to compose herself, and backed away from him to the door to her room, then pulled it open behind herself and escaped inside, shutting it firmly behind her.

He watched her go and then turned, the smile that he had fading almost immediately. I am turning into a fool like Thor. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn her a witch, but she wasn’t, and he only had himself to blame. He disappeared down the hall as he headed to his own quarters.

Signy leaned back against the door for a moment, then let out a long, shuddering sigh. “I’m going mad,” she muttered, shaking her head. She strode over to the chair and sank into it, removing her boots, then the rest of her armor, tossing it into the corner before going to the bed. The bruises had all faded, every last one, and the cuts, and the sore muscles and torn ligaments. She crawled into the bed and yanked the covers up over her, not bothering with putting any other clothes on. Her head reeled at the events of the day so far, and it wasn’t even dinnertime yet. She desperately craved sleep, and after a moment, closed her eyes and tumbled into its depths with relief.

 

 

Loki had made sure that their dinner would be just the two of them with no interruptions. The meal was on a balcony, overlooking the sea and the Bifrost. It was close to his mother’s quarters, which he hadn’t visited since her death. He alone knew that her death was his fault and that guilt would be forever his alone. He was the one who directed the monster to the palace rooms.

Oda arrived and knocked on Signy’s door, waiting for her permission to enter.

Signy jerked out of sleep at the knock, eyes wide, looking around where she lay without recognition for a moment. This wasn’t her mother’s cottage. Then remembrance flooded back and she grimaced. “Yes?” she called out hoarsely, sitting up slow, wrapping the blanket around herself.

“May I enter, m’lady?” she asked, opening the door to peek inside. She saw that Signy was in her bed and she could see the disorientation of sleep on the woman’s features.

Signy looked up and nodded, sitting dully on the edge of the bed. “Must be dinnertime,” she muttered. She rubbed her eyes blearily; it did not feel like she had been able to sleep nearly long enough, like one might get if one traveled to a foreign country. What had her mother called it? Jetlag. She was glad, at least, that there had been no vision-dreams.

“My Lady, would you like me to call the Lord and let him know you’re not feeling well? You look as if you’ve not slept in days. I am sure he will understand,” she asked, moving to her and putting the back of her hand against Signy’s head, “You’ve no fever, so that is good.”

Signy shook her head. “I’m not ill, just tired,” she sighed. “Today has been...insane from the get-go. Perhaps the busiest, longest day of my life, and it’s not over yet.” She sighed again. “I have to eat, the body needs fuel just like any fire does.” She glanced over. “The blue and green dress this time, I guess. I somehow doubt he wants me showing up for dinner in my armor.”

Oda looked at her. “If it helps you to feel better, I have known Prince Loki my entire life and I have never seen him so…entranced. He has not been the best man, or prince, but since the Queen passed, he has not quite recovered, and after Odin disappeared, it was left to Loki to try and piece things together. You have made him… different and almost... “ She shook her head. “But if you are not up to dinner, I am sure he would understand. I’ll ready your dress if you’d like to splash off at the basin.”

Signy blinked. “Wait...Odin has disappeared?” she asked abruptly, getting to her feet. “Frigga is dead?” She had not thought they could die--at least, not until Ragnarok, the legends of Balder’s death notwithstanding. And Loki had a hand in that, too.

Oda nodded, “Yes, the Dark Elf Malekith killed the lady Frigga, and Odin disappeared right after Thor left to go back to Earth with his Avengers. Loki had been imprisoned for what he did on Midgard with the Tesseract when the Elves attacked and killed his mother,” she explained. “Forgive me for not realizing you were not aware of all the details here.”

Signy lifted her head. “I am half Asgardian,” she said stoically. “My name is Signy Odinsdottir and I would like to know what has happened to my father.”

Oda looked surprised. “I am sorry, m’lady, we don’t know. He disappeared. Thor and Loki among many others have been looking for him, but we have yet to find him. And Thor has been absent as of late,” she told her.

Signy shook her head. “I take it that Thor is not in residence now?” she asked, a whit more politely. 

“No, m’lady. Tyr, the Warriors Three, Sif, and Loki are the only nobles here at the moment,” she said. “Shall I help you dress so you can speak to Loki?”

Signy shook her head. “My thanks, but I can dress myself,” she said. “Though I wouldn’t mind help with my hair. It was a mess after I was done fighting, and then I bathed, and we went back to Midgard, and then I slept on it. I might be better served by just chopping it all off.” She shucked off the blanket and reached for the dress, a frown on her face.

“Of course, I would be pleased. And don’t talk of cutting it, it is so beautiful with the fire of the sun in it,” Oda told her as she set down several leather hair wraps. “When you are ready, I am here,” she told her. She looked floored to learn that the lady Signy was of Odin’s blood.

Signy grabbed the towel she had been wearing before and wrapped it around her hair to get it up off her shoulders, then wetted a cloth in the bowl of water and washed quickly before pulling on the blue and green dress. When she had it fastened, she turned to Oda. “I don’t have a brush, I’m afraid. Loki brought me here without anything I owned save what I was wearing, my dagger, and my swords.” She pulled off the towel, pulled the wilted sprigs of greenery out of the long, tangled mass, and worked at getting the leather cords and clips out of the mass of braids.

Oda held up a brush. “We have everything you need, m’lady,” she said as she began to assist the woman with getting her hair unplaited and then brushed out. “Your hair is as soft as a newborn babe’s,” she told Signy.

“I’m sure that’s the oil,” Signy said. “Thank you for your aid in this matter. It would take over an hour, alone.” She sat patiently. “When we have it straight, I may as well just leave it unbound and loose, I think. Less likely to tangle.”

Oda looked at her hair a moment. “We could pull the sides back from your face in a smaller crown braid and then use a larger plait for the length so that it doesn’t tangle while free. You sit and I will have your hair finished right away,” she said as she began to brush and separate Signy’s hair. 

Signy sat in silence while Oda worked, hands folded in her lap. She still had absolutely no idea how to deal with Loki’s compliments and caresses and blandishments. It made her uncomfortable to even think about it, the way her free will crumbled every time he touched her.

“You’re frowning, what troubles you?” Oda asked, as her hands worked deftly at Signy’s hair. “Of course, you have had a very troubling day, as you said earlier. But don’t let it mar your features, trouble passes and so too shall this.”

“I...don’t want to discuss it,” Signy said quietly. “I’m out of my element here, and...I don’t know who it’s safe to talk to. I don’t...want to say the wrong thing and get you in trouble for confiding in you.”

“I understand,” Oda said quietly, going back to Signy’s hair. “How do you like Asgard so far? Is it much different from Midgard?”

“I never saw much of Midgard. Just my village,” Signy said. “And a bit of the fields and forests beyond it, when I went hunting. I’ve barely seen much more than that of Asgard--this room, the bathroom, the library where I dined with Loki, and the practice ring of the Einherjar, plus the path to get from here to there.”

“If you are going to be here for awhile, I would be happy to show you around. The palace is beautiful, but the rest of Asgard is even more so,” she told Signy. “There are wild horses a few hundred miles North and there is a small village to the East where they make the most beautiful dresses and gowns, and the white beach on the Blue Sea is so bright that it shines almost like daylight when the moons fall on it.”

“That sounds...beautiful,” Signy sighed. “My village, on Midgard...there was nothing but ice and snow, except for three short months a year. I am told there are places in the world where it is cold only those three months, and warm the rest of the year. Hard to believe.” She looked distant. “I suppose Asgard will be my home now.”

“I believe if you truly wanted to go back, Loki would take you,” she told her. She smiled. “It’s cold here for about four moons or so,” she patted her shoulders, “Your hair is done, M’lady.”

“Thank you, Oda,” Signy said, getting to her feet. She touched her hair, feeling the way the other woman had wound it up, then nodded. “I had best not keep him waiting, I guess.” She sighed. “I can’t go back to my world, though. There’s no one and nothing left for me there.” She headed out the door, then, and down the hall, down toward the library and dining area where she had met him before, the gown drifting around her as she walked.

He felt her as much as heard her as she came down the hall to the dining terrace. The table was set up outside and there was a light breeze that blew across the balcony. He stood and started over to meet her at the door. When she opened it, she stole his breath for a moment. She was stunning, the dress hugging her curves in all the right places. “You are a vision,” he said quietly.

“I’m no such thing,” she said, as lightly as she could manage. She stepped forward and nodded at him. “I...hope you’re well,” she said awkwardly.

He strode to her and took her face in his hands. “I think you are a vision, and you cannot tell me what I find beautiful,” he said with a smile, then kissed her nose. “You are beautiful, and I am well, if hungry. Let’s go have dinner, shall we?”

She nodded, her nose twitching at the kiss. Her face was hot where his hands had framed it, and for a moment it was as if she could still feel his fingers there, their weight against her skin. She tilted her head down and followed him.

He moved to the table and pulled her chair out for her, “I thought we could enjoy the weather and you might enjoy the view,” he said with a smile. “I also have requested several wines brought up so you might have something other than the mead we had before,” he said, moving to sit across from her at the small table.

She nodded, taking her chair, looking out at the view of the city. A million lights sparkled, more than in her poor village, which was lit mostly by campfires, hearthfires, lanterns, candles, and occasionally, flashlight. The night was warm and sultry, appropriate for August, a pleasant breeze blowing. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “It is appreciated.”

“There are a selection of cheeses as well as Asgardian fruit in front of you. I recommend the purple fruit that looks like an orange. The green leaves under it are edible and are very sweet and nearly melt in your mouth,” he said, naming each one of the fruits and cheeses for her.

She tried the things he pointed out, because he seemed to want her to; the cheeses were the best, as cheese was pretty much the same everywhere. Most of the rest of it was too sweet for someone accustomed to a diet of meat, bread, and root vegetables, with the occasional bit of apple or berry in high summer. But she gave everything a fair chance, nibbling in silence.

“You’re very quiet tonight. Does something trouble you?” he asked her, sipping on some of the wine, “Did something happen during the evening?”

She shook her head. “Nothing happened tonight,” she said softly. “I am just...my heart and my head are at war.” Her gaze flicked up to him. “They war over you, of course.”

“If I confessed the same, would that give you any sense of ease?” he asked her. “Because I am feeling the same way,” he said as he ate a few bites of cheese.

“I would imagine you have lived a very long time,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “And over those years, you must have seen much. Done much. I am sure you know your own mind. But I find that my small handful of seasons on the earth have not taught me how to deal with...something so common and everyday as a man, trying to court me. Well...perhaps not a man, or not a common one, anyway.”

“I can’t imagine you would tolerate a common man courting you at all. You lived a life where you set your sights on being better than the rest, of protecting those who you knew you should protect. You knew from the time your mother told you who your father was that you had a duty, and as you learned your strength, you convinced yourself that no man would ever be enough, and now you may have found one who could be.”

She scowled. “You misunderstand. It was never about being better than the rest. It was only about being as good as I possibly could be. The end result of that was that I became better than the rest, yes, but that was never my goal. But you are correct about no man ever being good enough.” She took a drink of her wine, paused, looked at the glass, then drained it. “I would like more of this, please. It is very good.”

“Of course,” he said, waving one of the servants over to refill her wine. “So tell me, does the idea of a husband and children just not appeal to you? I know you told me you are not fond of children, but have you not debated taking a husband for companionship, for love?” he asked, a brow arched as he looked over at her.

“I am not against the idea of a partner, if I fell in love with someone worthy,” she said quietly. “But children...no, I don't want them. I don't want to have to be responsible for anyone but myself. Any partner I took would have to be an equal.” She took a long drink of the wine, nearly emptying her cup again.

“That word again, worthy. Would they need to be worthy like to wield Mjolnir, or just worthy in your eyes? Do you even know what you define or feel is worthy?” he asked, taking a bite of a slice of cheese. “And I can agree with the idea of children. I would rather spend time with my partner than raise children, at least for awhile.”

She was quiet for a moment, a long moment. “I define worthy when it comes to my partner. And I require a number of things. Someone who will pull their own weight. Someone who won’t constantly require me to do things they can’t. Someone who doesn’t slaughter my village and break my arm within 30 minutes of meeting them.” The wine was definitely stronger than what she was used to; it was going to her head and loosening her tongue.

He looked across the table at her. “I know you’re angry about that, but would you really have come with me if I showed up and said I was Loki of Asgard? No, I know you well enough to know you would have laughed in my face. You’re a woman of action and you need action to force you to move. You would have been content to stay in your little village, teaching the younglings and never learned more about what you are than what your mother told you and what you knew about your abilities on Earth.” His words were not harsh, but they were honest as he looked at her. “Am I wrong in my assessment?”

Anger flooded her face. “Yes, you are wrong!!! You don’t know anything about me! In my village, we were taught that each of the gods played their part. Do you want to know what I was taught about Loki, o God of Frost and Fire? We were taught that he was the one that tore down the old, corrupted, degraded parts of creation, things that needed to pass on, removing old things to make way for the new. Just like the forest fire that clears dead trees, or the flooded river that washes away the garbage and brings new topsoil for the fertile fields, you were a force of nature that the world could not exist without. Destruction, yes, but bringing new riches and new opportunities in your wake. And I was tired of my village, tired of taking care of them all, tired of having them all lean on me, but I had nowhere to go and nothing in Midgard beyond the walls of my village that I was fit for. So yes, I would have gone with you! We taught that when the gods call you, you must answer! But now my honor says that I can have nothing to do with the one who killed them all! Even if I want to!” She hurled her empty wine glass against the far wall, listening to it shatter; the rage and frustration--and despair--in her eyes was easy enough for even a child to read.

He stood to his full height as she threw the glass and smashed it into the wall. “What right do you have to judge what I do or the reasons I do it? You would not have willingly just walked out of that village with me and don’t tell me you would. You would have drawn a sword and challenged me in that moment,” he said as he pushed the chair aside and strode toward her. “You said yourself you didn’t believe in the Gods, you can’t now claim you would have gone because your duty was to answer. Your duty was to protect and you’re still angry that you couldn’t fulfill that duty. I am sorry that I killed your village, I truly am. It’s not often that I would even think to admit so, but I am sorry. Maybe I could have done it differently, but I made the choice and I cannot wave a magic wand and make it right. I made a mistake and for that I am sorry.” He moved toward her and towered over her. “Would it help you if I said I wanted to hate you?” he stopped and stared at her, seeing her unhappiness, and he tilted his head, sighing heavily. “You are not the woman I thought you were.”

“Once again, you misremember what I said,” she said, deadpan. “I said--and I quote--’I was not the most devout person in my community. In fact, aside from children and babes who had little awareness of such things, I might have been the least devout. I believed there were gods...but unlike my mother, I didn’t much believe they listened to any of us. I had proof enough of that.’ And then later, I added that I didn’t believe in gods now. But then? In my village? Yes.” She got to her feet, wavering slightly, her face a little flushed, her knees wobbly. “If a god had come to my village and said I was needed, I had to go to Asgard, I daresay my belief would have gotten a lot stronger. And then, the chance at...closeness? With someone I respected? Even grew to care for? I could not have asked for more, ever.” Her breath shuddered in her lungs. “But now? Now I have nothing.” She pushed her chair back from the table and turned to go.

He reached out and grabbed her by her wrist, pulling her back to him. “You have everything!” he snapped at her. “You can spend your time wallowing in guilt and sorrow over the dead--yes, it is terrible and yes, I do regret my choice--but it’s done and over and it cannot be changed! You have a new life here, you have people who respect you! Tyr, Volstagg, the other guards. Oda can only say good things of you. You went back and brought the children here for the chance to live a life Midgard could never possibly give them. Death is a part of life, yes it was cruel, but it is done. You have everything you could possibly want if you just stop focusing on that one moment in time!”

She hissed. “You murdered my village. The old men and the pregnant women and the sick and the lame and everyone but the children. People who were no threat to you! People who knew nothing of your plans! People who worshiped you! How do you think I could ever stop focusing on that? I hate myself for wanting you!” she snarled. “This is not my home, it never will be, but I have no other home either, because you destroyed it!”

“And crying over them and refusing to accept the new life you’ve been given is a better choice? You’re crying over humans who you will outlive by thousands of years. Humans are fragile and their lives fleeting. But feel free to mourn them and hate the opportunity you’ve been given. Better yet, would you like me to return you to Midgard so you can waste away in your precious village?” The last words were angry, hissed at her; she had admitted that she wanted him, but hated that she did. The realization made his head spin with frustration and rage.

“Where would I go?” she asked, deadpan. “My village is destroyed. Should I let you put me out on the icy tundra to freeze to death, Frost Giant?” She looked down at where he held her wrist. “You should let me go now.” Her tone had gone flat, emotionless, dead.

He let go and gave her hand a shove away from him. “I didn’t leave the children to die. Do you think I would leave you? I will take you to wherever you want to go and then leave you be and you can forget that you have the blood of a God running in your veins. I wanted more for you, better than Midgard could offer, but since I seem to repulse you so much, tell me where you want to go and I will take you.” His voice had gone cold.

“Where I want to go? Midnight, this morning, back at my village, so I could warn myself before you arrived, and evacuate everyone, and present you no need to kill anyone, and go with you peacefully, willingly.” There was sudden sharp yearning in her voice, violent as whiplash, and her face fell. “You can’t do that, though, can you?” Her head fell forward. “Whatever blood runs through my veins, it’s not that of a god. There are no gods. You told me so yourself.” She lifted her head to look at him. “And the problem isn’t that you repulse me, because clearly, you don’t. The problem is that I repulse myself.”

“Yes, of course, because how could you be attracted to a killer?” he walked away from her. “I am sorry that I upset your sensibilities.” He started to walk toward the door. “I will leave you be, Signy Odinsdottir.” He gripped the handle of the door and pulled it open. “Oda and Liv will be your servants, as they have already proven willing to serve you.” 

Signy stood frozen where she was, watching him go. Her face was fixed, her expression a thing of pain. Slowly, all animation drained out of it, leaving it hard as steel and as numb and unfeeling. “As you will, Loki of the Jotun,” she whispered. 

“What do you want of me, Signy? You want to hate me for what I did and when I offer you freedom from me, you look as if I struck you.” His voice was hard and edgy. “Tell me how you can speak of me like a monster and then be upset that I am leaving you be?!” He stared at her, the green of his eyes darker than normal in his anger.

She shook her head slowly. “The things I want, I cannot have,” she said quietly. “Either because they no longer exist, or because to accept them would shatter my honor forever. I am sorry to have been a burden to you, Lord of Asgard. I will trouble you no longer. I will take the training you offer and behave as you ask me to and live in Asgard and offer you no more grief.” She paused. “I was sorry to hear about the Lady Frigg. I can see in your eyes that you loved her, as I loved my mother.”

Her words hit him like a blow, and he growled and strode to her, his steps smooth but quick. He grabbed her face in his hands, leaning down and crushing his lips against hers--it was that or strike her. Damn the heavens for everything, he thought to himself as he kissed her. All he wanted to do was taste her lips, to feel her in his arms as he had earlier. The woman would drive him to madness and he was beginning to believe that it was his punishment for what he’d done. He pulled from the kiss, breathless as he looked at her. “Damn your honor, and my rash actions. I cannot let you go, Signy, and I won’t, you are mine,” he told her as his mouth claimed hers once more.

She broke the kiss with a shiver. “That is not your decision to make,” she said quietly. “I do not see you as a rapist, Loki of Asgard.” The words came out flat and hollow, uninflected and emotionless, but there was pain in her gaze, unfulfilled yearning and despair.

He gazed at her. “I am not, nor would I force you, but I will not give you up. My rashness was unnecessary, but is that not true of most casualties of war?” he asked. “The deaths of the innocent are always there. I am sorry that I acted as I did, I truly am,” he told her, his voice softer than before. “I thought you were more aware of your…lineage than you are. I was wrong about you and about your village, and if I could give it back I would, but that is not how this game is played.”

“I do not think you brought me here to be your doxy,” she said softly. “And whether your mind is changed or no, so long as I know what I know, I cannot move from my decision on the matter.” She paused, just for a second, to unbend enough to show the sorrow she felt. “I am sorry. You would have been a fine mate, and an equal.”

He stared at her. “You will change your mind. You cannot deny what you feel, and the pain of what happened will fade,” he told her as he caressed her face with his hand. “You will not be rid of me, ever. Understand that. I am a very patient man.”

She thought of what he had said, that she would outlive everyone in the village by thousands of years. The thought chilled her to the bone. Thousands of years alone in her soul, alone here in Asgard, unable to have the one man she actually wanted. Tyr had beaten her, but she felt nothing for the older warrior, not the least spark. Perhaps there might be one among the other warriors to whom she bore no such connection who might beat her in battle, as well? She would not love such a one, but at the least, she would not be alone.

But what was the point of millennia together, if there was no love involved?

She lowered her head. “I would like to go back to my quarters, if I may, and sleep. It has been a very long, difficult day, and I am to meet Tyr for training in the morning after breakfast. I need to be rested.”

He could see that she was going to remain stubborn on the issue. “Yes, I will walk you to your room,” he told her as he walked to the door and held it open for her. She was going to choose her honor over her own happiness. Well, he knew ways to erase memories, and sorcerers who could do the same. He would have to seek them out.

She let him escort her down the hall to her quarters, because it was a small enough thing, and she had wearied of arguments tonight. She came to a stop in front of her door, and turned to face him. “I am sorry I made our dinner--what we had of it--so unpleasant. But I am not sorry for sticking to my principles. I have nothing left but my honor. I will not throw it away.”

He lifted her chin to gaze into her eyes. “Signy, if you think I will walk away from such a treasure as you, then you have no idea who I really am. I will leave you be as you asked. But I will always be watching you and waiting for the time when I know you’ve finally let go of the old,” he said, then leaned in to place a gentle kiss at her forehead. “Until later, my little wolf."

She slipped into her room and shut the door behind her, leaning back against it. Her forehead burned where he had kissed it, and she closed her eyes and listened, trying to hear his footsteps receding down the hall even as silent tears slid down her cheeks. She had never wanted anything as badly as she wanted Loki; her heartbeat turned itself into a gallop every time he touched her. His smell was intoxicating, his voice was a drug, and the sight of his lean, elegant frame made her want to whimper with the thought of how it would feel to have it pressed against her own body.

And yet.

She could not.

Not so long as the memory of the dead in her village still haunted her.

She trudged over to her bed, kicking off her boots, and undid her dress fastenings in silence, swaddling herself in one of the blankets before she burrowed down under the other and let the last dizzy dregs of wine still in her system drag her to sleep.

Loki walked from her door, his mind already going through the people he could talk to and the things that he could possibly make happen. He wanted her to stop holding back because of his actions. To him, they were nothing, and it was hard for him to wrap his mind around. They were only villagers, not her blood kin. He turned the corner and started up the stairs to his private study to search his books and spells for something to assist him.


	6. Lessons in Scarlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Signy has her first vision since arriving in Asgard, and she acts on it, which leads to dire consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic violence, explicit first-time sex.
> 
> P.S. for the 'weird building' she sees in her vision, I had a look at the concept art sketches of Asgard for the movies and picked one out. You can see it above and a little to the right of Jane's head in the image at:
> 
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/40/9e/67/409e67e364ec8f31ab247d825fb539f4.jpg

The clash and clang of steel on steel echoed through the practice ring as Signy brought up one of the two swords she carried to block Sif’s slash. The two swords were constantly moving, the sun shining off them in bright wheels of silver. She had started out the bout at Volstagg’s call with her favorite move, taking a dead run at her opponent, then leaping at the last moment and hitting the person’s chest. It hardly ever failed to knock them down, and she had bounced off, tumbled into a somersault, flipped back up, and ran to re-orient herself. It had left Sif raging mad, eyes wide as she leapt back up to her feet, fist clenched around her sword’s hilt even as the other warriors around them laughed.

Signy craved something--anything--to take her mind off the argument last night, and battle was all she had. She moved now with effortless grace, blocking shot after shot as Sif grew madder--not just by her opening move, but by the fact that she had so far been unable to land a single blow on Signy. The half-mortal woman was also much faster, though not as strong, and Signy rained down strike after strike on the woman--back, arms, shoulders, gut, ass. Fandral was laughing non-stop, Volstagg had fallen over and had a difficult time trying to call the bout, and even Hogun was struggling to keep a neutral expression on his features.

Sif closed in, and Signy raised both swords, a grim smile on her face--

The world around her wavered, blurred, vanished. Ice. There was nothing but ice--three huge knives of it, poised above, falling down with the intent to shed blood, and below were the children that had come to Asgard from her village.

Signy had time to spot an unusual building roof just behind the three immense icicles as she realized what was going on. 

A vision! But I’m not asleep, it’s so clear--

Piercing agony slammed through her left shoulder, just below her collarbone, just above the edge of her ribcage. She felt blood spurt out and the vision shattered like glass, leaving her with her hands locked around the hilts of her swords, and the tip of Sif’s sword buried in her chest.

She gaped for a second, realizing the vision had so stolen her concentration that she had missed the chance to block Sif’s attack. Supposed to be the flat of the blade...I really did anger her far too greatly. Tyr was shouting for healers, and even Sif looked startled, then chagrined.

Signy stabbed one of her blades into the ground, reached up, and yanked Sif’s sword out of her chest, then grabbed up her own blade again and ran.

She heard the whispers as she pounded forward, her eyes on the skyline, remembering where she had seen that roof--halfway across the city, was there even time? The words ‘mortal coward’ were slowly receding into the distance, but she ignored them.

One of the city patrol’s sky-skimmer boats came soaring past and she raced forward, leapt up to kick off against a building wall, and landed on the back deck of the open craft, startling the guardsman who piloted it. “There!” she yelled, pointing with one sword. “Take me there, now! It’s an emergency!” Blood was streaming down her chest and she could vaguely feel pain, but there was no time to acknowledge it if she wanted to save the children. The visions were far more urgent the closer they were to happening; none had ever been this strident before.

 

Loki had been watching from his study. When she stopped abruptly, he could see that in her face she was not there--not really. Her eyes had a faraway look to them and she was so still. Too still. He moved over to the stone railing, watching as Sif came at her and he yelled out her name, but even as the syllables left his lips, it was too late. Sif had already wounded her and he could see the blood streaming from the wound. 

But it was what happened next that left him agape. She pulled the sword out and ran in the opposite direction. He rushed out of the room and down the stairs, rounding the circular case until he rushed out the door, “Where did she go?” he yelled, looking at Volstagg, Sif and Fandral. “She was wounded!” he yelled, turning to see her nowhere. How could she have disappeared?

 

The pilot guided the sky-skimmer, toward the roof she had pointed to--a tall peak that reminded her of a very tall, thin version of the old stave churches in Norway. As they approached, she could see the children behind the building, playing in what looked like a park; there were tall trees, but the trees were not tall enough to hide the figures moving in from the edge of the city. They were twice the size of a tall man, with skin of darkest blue, and eyes that burned red as blood. All three of them carried axes and swords.

“Frost giants!” the pilot gasped, looking stunned.

They were close enough now, and only twenty feet up. “Call the guards,” Signy said grimly, and hurled herself over the edge of the skimmer.

She did her best to turn her fall into a dive, arms outstretched and crossed over each other, and scythed out with her swords as she landed against the closest one’s chest, the same move she had used first against Sif--but her swords clashed together in an X over his throat like a pair of scissors blades, even as his eyes went wide, and then his head tumbled to the ground, blue blood splattering the grass. His body quickly followed.

She fell the last five feet, tumbled and rolled, coming up a dozen feet from the next closest one. Even as the children screamed and scattered, she ran, hurling herself into the air, both swords held like daggers. She ducked under the giant’s reach as he swung his axe at her, hitting him in mid-thigh, her swords buried to their hilts in his guts. She yanked them outward, opening up a long slash along his belly, and his innards spilled out in a gush, slippery underfoot as he took a step and set his heel into his own intestines. He screamed as his feet flew out from under him and he fell; she yanked her swords free and backflipped off his chest, coming to rest on the ground.

 

Loki shouted once more about where she’d gone and there were musings and words thrown even as several men pointed in the direction she’d gone, “She took a Skimmer, sire, she pointed a direction over near the park,” he told him. Loki cursed and then jumped up as the original guard came rushing back in the skimmer.

“Frost Giants, in the park!” he yelled. Loki jumped into the skiff and grabbed the pilot. 

“Get me there now!” he shouted.

 

Even as Signy spun, the last giant was upon her, reaching down with one hand. He was the largest of the group, the slowest, but she was small, and his hand engulfed her from rib-cage to hips, yanking her up off the earth with a snarl. The small eyes blazed bloody, and she had a moment to be glad she had thrown her arms up so they were free of his grip before he squeezed his hand into a fist with her at the center, like a small child crushing a half-melted chocolate in his grip on a hot day.

She felt a blaze of agony as her ribs popped with gunshot sounds, her hips shattering like china. It was suddenly impossible to breathe; her lungs were full of hot stickiness, and she coughed, scarlet wetness splattering her chest.

“Little mortal vermin,” the giant hissed, holding her up like a broken toy.

Heat was moving in fast, occluding her vision; she yanked her right hand back, Olaf’s sword in her grip, and prayed to gods she didn’t believe in anymore for just a yard's worth of good aim. Then she hurled the sword forward with all her strength.

It flew through the air, flipping in a wheel just once, and buried itself above and between the giant’s eyes with a crunch. His eyes went wide, and then he was falling, one arm thrown out in a dying attempt to break his fall--

He landed atop her and there was nothing left at all but darkness.

 

 

Loki saw it all as if it were in slow motion and he could see every detail in vivid color and memory. He saw her sword hit the giant right in his brow and as he fell, he saw him curl like a cat's tail as he crumpled, falling atop her body. Loki screamed her name, but there was nothing but silence and the gasp of the guards who had arrived at almost the same time. He leapt from the skiff and ran toward her, using magic to hurl the giant over. She lay broken and bleeding. Blood came from her mouth and nose, her arm turned at an odd angle, a bloody wound in her skull, and her skin a pale, pale white as if the blood was draining from her in front of his eyes.

“No, no no no no,” he muttered, casting a quick healing spell and yet another, putting her in a sort of stasis. He lifted her body and moved quickly but so carefully. “To Eir’s Infirmary, now!”

The pilot brought the skiff up and soared through the city, cutting through the parapets and peaks to take the fastest route to Eir’s sanctuary. The city’s senior healer was waiting for them when the skimmer came to a landing in front of the entrance, her hands steepled together. “Bring her in,” the older woman said, her tone severe. “I do not know what I can do for her. The word all over the city is that she is half-mortal. She may die.”

“She is the daughter of Odin and a mortal. I found her on Midgard and brought her here. She is not like the others there, she is honorable and steadfast and a warrior unlike any seen here on Asgard,” he told Eir. “Please do what you can, I used a healing spell and did as much as I could. She has to live.”

Eir gave him a look as she directed him to lay Signy down on her exam table. “Mortals die. It is what they do,” she said. “That she is the daughter of Odin...well.” She sniffed. “I will do my best, as I always do. But I make no guarantees.”

“I know, I just can’t lose her now that I found her,” he said as he watched the woman work. He worried at his lip, hands twisted together in front of him. He moved back as Eir began to move around her. He was helpless to do anything but watch and wait.

Eir called up the diagnostic array and made a sound in the back of her throat as the image appeared in mid-air over Signy. “Almost every bone in her body between her shoulders and hips is shattered,” she clucked, frowning. “Including her spine. She’ll be lucky to walk again, if she survives. Both lungs punctured in multiple places. Spleen, kidneys, liver, pulped. Heart bruised. Stomach punctured and leaking fluids into the body cavity, so a possibility of peritonitis. Plus she has multiple skull fracture. The damage penetrates quite deeply.” Her fingers flew over the buttons, loosing healing energies from the medical array into the crumpled body there. “Her heart’s just stopped.” A pressed button elicited an electrical charge into the prone form, and it jumped, muscles contracting. “Beating again.” Eerie lights in red and green and gold shimmered down on the form on the table.

Loki looked up as the guard from the skimmer walked toward him. “Sire, she saved those children. All of them. She knew where the Jotuns were, she pointed me there. She took them on, all three,” he paused, then lowered his head. “The children are all safe. My apologies, M’lord, that I did not move fast enough to help her.”

Loki looked at him and blinked, shocked. “Three? She fought three? I saw only the one, just as I arrived.”

“The other two lie dead not too far away. They're not visible from above due to the tree cover. I saw what she did--it was so fast--but I saw it. She took off the first giant’s head before he could swing his axe.” 

Eir was listening and arched a brow. “Must be Odin’s blood,” she said dryly. “He always hated the frost giants.” There was an unspoken comment there, and Loki shot her an angry look. She ignored him, silent for a moment as she observed the array. “Her organs are repaired, and her bones are healing. I’ve staved off infection from the contents of her stomach. It’s too soon to tell if she’ll be able to walk again; the spine heals slowly. And there’s some damage from the skull fractures, but they’re healing. No way to tell if there'll be long-term damage; she could end up drooling and speechless." She looked up, a sardonic expression on her features. "But I saved that pretty face for you.”

“I care not what she looks like.” When Eir looked over at him, he frowned. “She is more than her looks. She fought three frost giants alone to protect children that were not even hers. She has never asked for anything more than what she has earned. She is the most noble and straightforward woman I have ever met,” he said as he stood. When did I go from hating nobility in my brother to this? he wondered. “And she will walk again. She is too stubborn to let this keep her down. She will heal and she will walk again. I know this,” he said, even as he reached out with his magic, using spells that he had learned but never tried before, to accelerate her healing. “Thank you, Lady Eir, I owe you my gratitude for this.”

“Don’t thank me, Lord Loki,” she said tartly. “I think this is a bad idea, just as Odin did when your brother brought that mortal girl here, infested with the Aether. Doing so opened our realm to the Dark Elves. Mortals don’t belong in Asgard, and they bring ill luck with them.” Her fingers flitted over the console. “She’s safe to move now. She needs at least a solid’s night sleep, and someone needs to get food into her. Also, she could use a bath. She reeks of blood and sweat and frost giant guts.”

“Jane was a mortal. She did not belong here, but Signy carries Odin’s blood. I will make sure that she gets much needed rest and food. I will also make sure she is bathed. If I might ask you to come tomorrow after your lunch and check in with her? My home, I have given her the upper rooms on the third floor,” he told her as he turned, gently lifting Signy up and into his arms.

“Fine,” Eir said, shaking her head. “This will bring you nothing but woe, Lord Loki.” She stepped back from her console, shutting it down, and watched him carry her from the room.

“I know that, but when have I ever done anything that didn’t bring me pain of some sort?” he asked, glancing back at the woman, then leaving with Signy in his arms.

The sky-skimmer pilot was waiting for him outside when he emerged. “The others of the royal guard are removing the bodies of the frost giants, Lord, but it was impossible to keep others from seeing them. The children are safe, but terrified; they are hiding under their beds in the dormitory where we put them until their foster families have been arranged. Though the oldest girl says she is not afraid, that the Lady Signy killed to protect her back on Midgard once, and she says she always knew the Lady would do it again, if needed.” His voice dropped. “Those who only saw her run from the sparring session with Sif, and have not heard of the giants, are calling her ‘coward’.”

Loki looked over at him, “You will go to Tyr as soon as you leave us and tell him all you saw. I am sure there will be rumors beginning, but you will tell all the guards what you saw as well. She may never walk again or be the same and she saved those children, alone, without aid from any Asgardian. If I hear anyone even mention the word coward in her presence I will disembowel them with my bare hands. Are we clear?” His voice was hard, and brokered no room for fail.

The guard paled, but nodded. “Very clear, Lord,” he said. “I will take you back to the palace and then go to Tyr at once.” He went to the skimmer’s controls, just waiting for Loki to get Signy into a comfortable and safe position, then started the skimmer and took off.

He cradled her in his lap as if she was the most delicate flower he’d ever held, not wanting to have her wake in pain. He had used a good deal of magic on her and he felt drained, but he would not leave her side until she woke. And if something happened and she couldn’t walk, he would find a way to make it right. She had risked her life again for children that would never really understand what she’d done for them. He smoothed her hair back, and kissed her temple, holding her as the guard took them back to his home.

It was hours later--after he’d brought her back and put her to sleep in his own bed, much larger and more comfortable than hers--that she made the first small sound, a tiny moan. It was followed by the fingertips of her left hand twitching slightly, the first time she had moved on her own.

He was next to the bed, in a reclining chair with a book in hand, when he heard her. He was instantly up on his feet, leaning down over her as he laid a hand on her forehead.

“Rest easy, love. I am right here.” His voice was soft and full of concern as he watched her struggle to break through to consciousness.

Her eyes flickered open at the sound of his voice, and her face was weary and full of pain, but her hand trembled toward him. “Loki...please…” she whispered, almost leaning toward him. “Need…” She coughed, her throat dry, voice raspy, and she sagged back into the bed, drained.

“The children are safe. You killed all of the Frost Giants, no child was harmed at all,” he assured her. He turned from her to grab a cold glass of water and reached under to lift her head slightly. He pressed the glass to her lips, “Slowly, just a sip or two,” he told her.

She drank, just a bit, but then her head dropped back onto the pillow. “Need...you…” she choked out, her voice a bit better. “Please...hold me…”

He sat the glass down and slipped out of his shoes, quickly sliding into the bed with her, He gathered her gently and carefully into his arms and smoothed her hair back from her face, “I am here, rest now. I’m here,” he kissed her temple, his hand still smoothing her hair back over and over.

Relief washed over her face, and she closed her eyes, sinking quickly back down into sleep, curled up small in his embrace. Her face was still very pale, with dark shadows under her eyes. Every so often, her small frame would tremble as pain rippled through her, the byproduct of things healing, and each time she burrowed into his arms more deeply, clinging to him, a small sound escaping her.

He continued to hold her, not letting her go at all. He rested his head against the top of her and moved only to look over as Oda came to the room with food and drink for him. He thanked her as he nibbled on the meats and breads she’d brought up, finger foods with little mess. He would have to thank the woman later for her perception.

Hours passed, the night shedding its shadows around them before the sun rose again to mark the new day. A couple of hours after dawn, she shivered in his arms and then opened her eyes, looking around in confusion. “Where am I?” she mumbled, clear-voiced but sleepy-sounding.

“You’re in my room. Your bed is too small and I wanted to be able to watch over you. You sound much better than last evening.” he told her as he kissed her temple. 

“I don’t hurt as much,” she murmured, sliding an arm around his waist and resting her head against his shoulder. “Some of my mind is...fuzzy.” She frowned. “I remember being mad. At you and me both. I just can’t remember why.” She drew little circles with one finger on the triangle of exposed skin on his chest where the collar of his shirt was open, then planted a kiss against his flesh. “Something stupid, I imagine. Unimportant. When I try to think about it, it makes my head hurt.” She reached up and rubbed the side of her skull, where one of the fractures had been. “And I don’t like my head hurting, so I’m not going to think about it.”

He turned her face so he could look into her eyes. “I am sorry that we argued and you are right, it’s unimportant now,” he sighed. “What you did was amazing and brave and stupid,” he said with a smile. “The children are all perfectly fine, but how did you know? You stopped in mid-fight with Sif.”

Her face went red. “Oh. Right. I...didn’t want to tell you. It was the last secret I had left.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I...have visions. Of things that are going to happen. Back on Earth, they only came to me while I slept, in dreams, and they were always very ambiguous and hard to interpret. Sometimes I couldn’t figure out what they meant until the things they predicted were already happening.” She paused. “I had a vision of my mother’s death from cancer, and of an outsider who came to the camp a few years back and tried to kidnap and rape one of the girls. Him, I was able to stop; his body is buried in the woods outside the village. My mother died, though...I couldn’t do anything to save her.” She squirmed. “The vision I had here was...really clear though, and it happened while I was awake, which has never happened before.” She sat up, sliding the blankets off, looking at the spot where Sif’s sword had pierced her flesh. There was almost no scar left, the tiniest of thin white lines.

He thought a moment. “That is because of your father Odin. I am sure you are aware of the lore--his drink from Mimir's well, his ordeal on Yggdrasil to create the runes. He too has visions at times, but my mother’s were far more clear than his,” he explained. “Her magic skills were that of a sorceress, she was … amazing.”

She reached out to take his hand and kissed it. “I am sorry that you lost her. She sounds like a wonderful woman, and I think I would have liked her.” She fanned out his hand, kissing each fingertip. “I can tell what an amazing woman she was by the son she raised.”

“I am not a good man,” he admitted as he looked over at her, smiling as she kissed his fingers. “I might be persuaded by a very beautiful flame-haired woman to think of changing my ways, perhaps. I could never become a hero, I am not that kind of man,” he said as he kissed her forehead. “You scared me. The thought of losing you...it made me sick.”

“I’m no hero either,” she said diffidently. “I’m just a warrior carrying out her duties.” She looked up at him, her eyes gone from their normal grey tinged with blue to a bright sapphire. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry. I just...the children. There was no way I was just going to sit back and assume the royal guard would be able to handle things. I didn’t even know if any of them were anywhere near the kids.” She reached up with a small, pale hand to caress the side of his face. “You should kiss me now.”

He wanted to ask what her sudden change of heart was, but he was no fool. He sank his hand into her hair and he kissed her fully, his tongue teasing her lips before he pushed his tongue to dance and twine with hers. She smelled so clean and he growled as she responded to him, kissing him back.

Her head swam at the touch of his mouth on hers, and she moaned, the sound trickling past her parted lips into his. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, his hands in her hair, and she leaned into the kiss, wanting it more than she had ever wanted anything in her life. He was strong and warm and more than that, he felt like safety to her. Her heart raced inside her chest, and she clung to him, giddy with the fire of it, one of her hands landing on his chest and spreading her fingers wide to caress the hard, sleek muscles there.

He growled against her lips, easing her up slightly so she was halfway on top of him. He kissed her like a dying man, drawing his last moments from her. He wanted to breathe her in, kiss her until he had no breath left and it still felt like he couldn’t get enough. His hands slid down her body, glad she had just the lighter-weight gown on that Eir had insisted they dress her in. He slid his hands over her breasts, not touching, just skimming with the palms of his hands.

She moaned, arching into his hands, head falling back against her shoulders. The heavy weight of her hair felt like an arm dangling down to her waist, and she planted one of her hands against his chest, still connected by the kiss, trying to devour him mouth-first. Her whole body sang with need of him, driving away any last lingering pain, and she writhed atop him, trying to spread her legs and finding them constrained by the narrow skirt of the dress she wore. In frustration, she sat up fully, yanking the sleeves off her arms, then pulling the dress up over her head, arching her hips up to free the skirt from where she was sitting on it, and tossing it onto the floor.

He was shocked, as she seemed to come alive at his kiss. He was trying to keep up with her and she was more than ready and willing to push their relationship faster. He kissed her, groaning when she tore off the gown and was naked on top of him. His hands went to her breasts, holding them in his hands. “Slow down love, we have all day,” he told her, wanting to see if he could cool her passions and make sure she was aware of what she was doing. His pants were so tight they hurt, but he would not be accused of taking her against her will. He would never forgive himself if she accused him of it later.

She looked down at him, confused. “I thought you wanted me as much as I want you. Have you changed your mind?” she asked, drawing back. She slid off him, off the bed, and picked up her gown, turning bright red. “I thought…” She shook her head, standing up without trouble, her expression a portrait in humiliation. “I’m stupid.”

“No!” he laughed and was up, instantly grabbing her, pulling her to him. “Don't be absurd. There are very few things in my life that I have wanted as much as I want you. I just want to take my time and worship every inch of you,” he told her as he leaned in to her neck, biting gently. “I want to memorize every curve, I want to taste your skin, and I want to make you beg me to take you,” he said as he tugged at her earlobe, his breath hot across her flesh. “I want you to crave me,” he told her.

“I have from the first moment I set eyes on you,” she whispered, letting the gown fall away. “Even when I was angry with you. You were all I could think about.” She shuddered as his mouth wandered over her throat, as his breath caressed her skin. “And I don’t remember why I was angry with you, but I remember hating myself for not letting myself be with you.” Her arms went around his waist, and she tilted her head up to look at him. “It’s begging you want? Then I beg you to take me, Loki, and show me what I’ve been missing.” She leaned forward against him and wrapped her mouth around one of his nipples, biting it lightly through his shirt.

He groaned as her mouth bit at him. His hands moved down to her bare bottom, pulling her hard against him so she could feel what she did to him. “I intend to show you with my hands and mouth how much I want you, and I will show you exactly what you’ve been missing,” he said as he grabbed her hands, holding them at her side as he leaned down and captured a pink nipple with his mouth, teasing it to a rock hard peak with his tongue, sucking it gently only to tease it again.

She whimpered as his mouth covered her nipple, and writhed against his grasp on her hands, shocked at how good it felt. She could feel his hardness pressed against her mound, and it brought on such a wave of need that she felt dizzy. “Please,” she panted, her heart feeling like a jackhammer in her chest. “Please, I don’t want to wait any more.”

“Oh my love, you are going to drive me to madness,” he said as he kissed her, stripping himself out of his clothes as he backed her to the bed. He sank a hand in her hair, using his grip to pull her head back, his mouth moving to her throat where he licked and then bit in a teasing manner before moving across her collarbone to her shoulder.

As soon as he let go of her wrists, she slid a hand around his waist, dropping it to his hips, then to the plane of his backside, dragging her nails across one cheek and leaving pink welts behind. She shuddered at the feeling of his teeth on her throat, moaning aloud, the backs of her thighs pressed into the edge of the mattress. She looked up at him with fire in her eyes, her other hand sliding down his waist to the nest of sleek black hair at his groin, dragging her fingers through it like a comb. With a deep breath, she wrapped that hand around his stiffness, feeling it give an excited throb in her grip.

Her hand felt like heaven as she wrapped it around his shaft. He didn't even think of moving her hand from him. He gave a slow thrust of his hips, sliding himself in her hand. He groaned at the pleasure of it and gazed into her eyes. Her reached out to take a nipple in each hand, tugging at then gently.

She pulled her hand up the shaft, slowly, taking her cue from the way he thrust himself into her grasp. She had never seen one up close before, both long and thick, and she swallowed hard as she pumped him, slow at first, then with increasing speed. There was clear fluid beaded in a single drop at the head of him, glistening, and she wondered what it tasted like. His fingers on her nipples sent a spasm of sharp pleasure through her unlike anything she had ever known.

He sighed at her touch, and how she experimented with her hand. It felt so good, but even better, that it was someone he wanted to be with and not just someone he was using to assuage his needs. He toyed with her nipples more, pinching and tugging them gently. He could hear her breathing increase and he could feel her pulse in her neck as he leaned in to suckle at her neck, then give a quick nip on her shoulder.

Signy slid her other hand down to join the first, curling her fingers lightly around his testicles in their loose pouch of skin. The skin tightened around the orbs, and she took a deep breath, running her fingers over the purple dome of his head, smearing the sticky honey he was making over her fingertips, and then lifting them to her mouth to lick. It was impossible to focus; the sensations going through her body were making her insane.

Watching her explore his body was exciting, but when she brought her hands to her lips to lick her fingers of his essence, it drove him wild. He grabbed the back of her head and kissed her hard, lifting her and tossing her onto the bed. He didn’t even wait for her to lay straight on the bed. He grabbed her legs, at the inside of her knees and spread them, and leaned down, spreading her open with his hands and drawing his tongue straight up her seam. He repeated the action twice and then focused his tongue on the tiny bundle of nerves below the thatch of curls.

For a moment, she was flying, and then his hands were on her, opening her, and his mouth on her mound stiffened her spine, bent it like a drawn longbow, and she let out a sound that wasn’t much less than a scream, her hands immediately darting down to bury themselves in his hair. His taste lingered on her lips, and she jerked her legs up, open, her hands shaking where they anchored themselves in his sleek black locks, moaning uncontrollably. It felt as though sweet lightning had struck between her legs.

He smiled even as his tongue began another slow drag from bottom to top. He licked and then suckled at that little bundle of nerves, loving when he could tear a moan or cry from her lips. He could feel her body trembling, her legs shaking as he concentrated on that spot. He was already obsessed with the taste of her and he wanted nothing more than to hear and feel her when she found her first release with him.

“Oh--gods--” Signy moaned, hips quaking in his hands, her eyes rolled up in her head. “Loki--” She whimpered in bliss, every muscle in her body drawn taut, feeling herself propelled toward the edge swifter than she had known possible. She had no frame of reference for the feelings and sensations tearing through her body; she had never bothered to play with her own body growing up, all her time spent in training instead. Her fingers tightened in his hair and then she yanked them down to the bed, afraid she would squeeze too hard in her rising need and hurt him.

He almost laughed at her reaction to him but he was too intent on the task at hand. He lapped, licked and flicked her button with his tongue, keeping her spread to him with his hands. He glanced up at her, seeing her head thrashing, hands tearing at the sheets and he continued, the tip of his tongue concentrating on that one area.

Between one breath and another it happened, every nerve in her body sparking white fire, and she screamed in earnest, her entire body seizing up as his mouth tipped her over the edge. She slammed her head back onto the bed, her hips arching up into his lips and tongue, her heels drumming on the mattress. Her fingers dug into the sheets and she heard the sound of ripping fabric, even as a babble of sounds followed the scream. “--god!” It was almost painful, that first climax, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight, temporarily forgetting how to breathe.

He kept his tongue where it was, concentrating on that one point when she came undone for him. He groaned at the way she jerked upward against his mouth, tearing the sheets, her entire body reacting to her orgasm. He didn't think he’d ever enjoyed watching anyone as much as he did in that moment. He couldn’t wait to bury himself inside her and show her what other pleasures he could give.

She collapsed back onto the bed in a daze, ringing in her ears, every inch of her skin tingling and prickling with gooseflesh. Her breath burned in her lungs, and her vision had gone a little blurry. She realized there were tears in her eyes, and she hitched out a sigh. “I didn’t know…” she said in a tiny voice, heat still sloshing through her everywhere. “I...oh gods.”

He grinned as he climbed up over her, holding himself above her, an arm on either side of her at her shoulders. “There is much more than that, love,” he said as he pushed between her legs, sliding his length up and down her already sensitive slit.

She jerked as he teased her seam with his shaft, moaning underneath him, still oversensitized from her climax. “Oh, no,” she said, shuddering. “Too much...it feels too much, too good--” The heat of his body overhead caressed her skin, his chest scraping against her breasts; her nipples were hard from the bliss that had just washed through her, and she lifted her hands up to wrap them around his torso, groaning in ecstasy. “I can’t--”

He guided himself to her center and debated how best to do this, fast or slow. He thought a moment and then thrust in, finding her extremely tight, and he groaned as felt her body tighten around him in the aftershocks of her climax. He held himself there, watching her reaction.

Her eyes went wide and she went rigid underneath him as he tore through her maidenhead, her arms tightening around his chest, the pained sound that escaped her not a scream but still quite audible. Her hips yanked back, pulling away, pushing back into the mattress, struggling to get away from the pain, and the look on her face was one of betrayal. “No--”

Loki used one hand to hold himself over her and the other rested on her cheek, “Shhh, it will pass, just relax, the pain will fade and then it will be pleasure. Your body is not accustomed to me but it will become so, just relax,” he said as he leaned down to kiss her. His free hand moved from her face, and slid between them, a finger slipping down between her legs to find her bud once more.

Her expression locked down, as if steeling herself to withstand more pain without complaint. “Is it--” she gasped. “Is it like this...every time?” She had felt worse pain, but one expected pain in battle. This had come unexpectedly.

“No, it should never be like this again,” he told her as his finger rubbed her slowly, wanting her to forget the pain. He would wait until he knew she was feeling nothing but pleasure before he moved inside of her again.

She twitched under his hand as he moved his finger, the tension slowly draining away from her face. “That...yes…” She shivered. “More like that, I...I like that.” She caught her breath and closed her eyes, the feelings that he had made with his mouth slowly returning, and a small moan escaped her. “Oh...yes…”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her, letting his hips move ever so slightly and begin a slow in and out of her, letting her feel it and get familiar with what she was feeling and to get used to it before he picked up the pace.

She groaned, reaching out to caress his back, dragging her nails down the sleek, muscular frame, and arched up into him again, meeting the kiss, her hair spread out under her on the pillow like a river of fire. Her breath came a little faster, and she shivered, finally opening her eyes to gaze up at him.

He didn’t relent with his finger, even if it was an awkward position at best but he was only interested in her pleasure for the time being. He would find his own soon enough. When she opened her eyes, he smiled down at her, then rolled his hips as he thrust a bit harder, letting himself grind against her.

“Oh--” she moaned, reaching up to tangle her hands in his hair. “That’s--” Her hips rose up to meet his. “--that’s better, that’s so much better.” The pain had drained away from her delicate features and she lifted a leg, hooking it around his waist, pulling him in closer. She lifted her head and set her mouth against the warm spread of his shoulder, kissing his skin, licking it, and finally biting him lightly, not breaking the skin but leaving the mark of her teeth there to claim him.

He leaned down to kiss her then, pulling his hand from between them to steady himself, even as she nibbled and licked at his neck. He kept that same slow rhythm with his hips, making sure he rubbed against her in just the way he knew she would like. When she moaned, he repeated the action. He pulled from the kiss and then gave several hard thrusts, wanting to see her reaction to him.

Her eyes flew open wide and she gasped. “Oh, god--” she groaned, her other leg lifting to wind around his waist and lock at the ankles with her other leg. “Please--more--that was--” Her voice disintegrated into a babble of moaning, and her nails dragged down his back hard enough to leave faint pink welts against his milky skin.

He was happy to oblige and he gave her another hard thrust. After he did so, he grabbed her legs, hooking them over his arms and then rose so her knees were draped over his arms. He began quick yet deep thrusts, the sound of their flesh hitting and their moans filling the room.

Signy threw her head back against the pillow with a wail of rapture, her hands dropping to dig into the bed. There were hollow popping sounds as her half-Asgardian strength drove her fingertips right through the sheets and mattress. She bucked her hips upward to meet each thrust, a flush of rose streaming over her pale face, seeping down through her entire body. Her entire body arched up, off the bed, barely able to breathe with the pleasure that roiled through her flesh and cut off her air.

His gaze never left her. Watching her find pleasure that she’d never known before was a heady thing. He would thrust hard, then give her more shallow strokes, then thrust again. He could feel her body tensing, shaking and when she sank her fingers into the mattress, he let out a half laugh, half moan. He gave her one hard thrust before he began to drive into her hard and fast, intent on making her writhe in pleasure under him until she found her release.

His weight atop her was a delicious, delirious restraint, and she moaned in one long arpeggio of sound, her inner thighs trembling like a rabbit trapped by a wolf. Every muscle in her body was taut with need, the spiral of fire at the center of her core winding tighter and tighter, pulling at every nerve, every cell.

When it came, she could not hold back a howl, her legs clamping tight around his waist, tight enough that it would have broken the back of a mortal man. She threw her head back, frozen in paroxysms of bliss, wave after wave of rapture crashing through her, stealing the air from her lungs, leaving her gowned in a thin sheen of perspiration, her heartbeat galloping faster than Sleipnir himself.

He didn’t think he had ever seen anything as absolutely wonderful as watching her come undone under him. His own pleasure was multiplied by watching her. He didn’t let up his thrusts, pushing through her tightness, even her arching off the bed, until he finally let out a shout as he too found release, spilling his seed into her quick jerks of his hips.

Signy collapsed back against the bed with Loki’s weight atop her, breathing heavily, dewy lips half-parted. Her breasts rose and fell with her breathing, and she gave him a dazed smile, cheeks rosy, pupils dilated, utterly sated. “I...that was...oh, god.” She lifted her head just a bit, pressing a kiss against the end of his chin. “I could die happy, now.”

His own heart was pounding in his chest and he was out of breath as well. He smiled at her words and when she kissed him, he laughed. “Oh love, there is so much more. Don’t even think about dying now, you have so so much more to experience.” He kissed her nose. “I am sorry that it hurt you, but I knew that it needed to be quick.”

She looked up at him with a lazy smile. “It went away quick enough,” she said, threading her fingers through his. “I’ve been hurt worse in fights, even just practicing. I just wasn’t expecting it,” she said. “Should I go back to my quarters now? I guess I could stand to clean up--”

“Absolutely not, you will share my quarters. I will have Oda move your things here--”

There came a pounding on the door. “My lord,” came the voice of one of the servants from the hall. “Your brother has returned to Asgard.”


	7. Odinsdottir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor returns to Asgard, and both he and Loki are greeted with a stunning surprise.

He looked at the door. “I will be right down,” he called. “Get dressed, we will go greet Thor,” he said, then smiled. “Your older brother.”

Signy rolled over and planted a kiss on his bare shoulder, then sat up, crawling to the edge of the bed. She found the washstand and wetted a cloth, cleaning the sweat from her skin and the seed from between her legs before going to find the thin gown she had tossed off when she had gotten too frustrated. It was thin cotton, grey, and almost see-through. “Ugh. This will never work. The other two you gave me are in the wash, I’ll go grab the one I came here in. It’s been cleaned and mended.”

He stood and frowned. “I am sorry, beloved, we will have more made for you right away. For now, what you had before will work,” he told her as he washed off and began to get dressed as well.

Signy nodded and pulled on the thin grey robe before hurrying back to her room. Her gown from home hung on the hook by her bed, and she quickly changed clothes. The gown she had came here in now felt heavy, coarse, and clumsy, but there was nothing else. Her hair--after the bout with Sif, the giant attack, a day spent in bed healing, and then making love to Loki, was an atrocious mess.

Oda hurried into her room. “Loki called for me to come to you. Turn around and I will make this mess presentable,” she said, even as she began to comb the tangles out with her fingers.

Signy turned and sank into her chair obediently. “I understand Thor has returned,” she said softly. She tilted her head up to look at Oda, no sign whatsoever of her injuries, but a rather obvious hickey on her throat, framed with Loki’s teeth marks.

“Aye, that he has. He has had a rough go, wherever he was. He looks tired and not at all himself.” she said as she began to twist Signy’s hair up into an elegant, yet messy, bun, “Loki and Thor love each other very much but they do not always get along.”

“The lore says as much,” Signy said. “Can you...eh...leave some loose strands down, to cover…?” She brushed her fingers against the purple mouth-mark Loki had left her with.

Oda smiled. “A mark of love shouldn’t be something you are ashamed of, but yes, I can make sure that it is not noticeable,” she told Signy as she began to pull down some strands to hide her neck and the mark as well.

“I’m not ashamed of it,” Signy said. “But that, like the kisses that led to it, are for him and myself only. My ego is not so weak that I need to flaunt it as if he were a toy I had won at a local faire.”

Oda laid her hand on Signy’s shoulder. “You are a gem, Signy,” she told her. “You are finished and ready to meet Lord Thor,” she said with a smile.

“Not a gem,” Signy demurred with a shake of her head. “Only a woman, doing her duty as a warrior...and maybe...finding something for me, along the way. But thank you.” She headed out into the hall, down to Loki’s quarters, and rapped on the door. She had washed her face, and this was as presentable as she was going to get until the other gowns were clean.

He opened the door and was back in his armor, more or less, and he smiled as he took her in. “You are more beautiful than the stars that fill the Asgardian nights,” he told her as he took her hand. “Utterly ravishing, my dear.”

“I am glad you find me pleasing,” she chuckled. “But I don’t need flattery, Loki. Beauty fades with age. I won’t look like this forever--not even being half-Asgardian, I expect.”

“I still believe that you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. And I will tell you often and whenever I please,” he said as he took her hand. “Let’s go greet Thor and see how long it takes him to try and flirt with you,” he teased her.

Her face contorted in distaste. “He’s my brother!” she protested. “We are going to tell him, are we not?”

“Of course we will. After he tries to flirt with you,” he said as he slid his fingers through hers, a bright smile on his face.

She blinked. “You’re terrible,” she snorted. “You’re doing this just to humiliate him?”

“Maybe, but I’m also doing it because he isn’t going to ask the right questions. Instead he will simply start trying to prove that he could steal you from me.”

Signy frowned. “Is he really that...crass?” she asked. “So boorish and base?” It seemed hard to believe.

“He can be. I could be wrong and there is the chance that he will have heard that he has a sister who has returned to Asgard. I guess we shall see in a few moments,” he told her as he gripped her hand. “Just be yourself, and don’t mind if we pick at each other.”

She grimaced, but nodded, and they came into the main hall. She had not been there before previously, and looked about in awe at the vaulting ceilings, the recessed dining area with the steps, the huge oval tables surrounded with chairs. The table was even now being set for lunch, with servants moving here and there with dishes, the tablecloth, candelabra, and vases of fresh flowers.

Thor had sunk into a chair at the end of the table, looking weary and battleworn. He looked up as Loki entered the room, his expression hardening, though there was a note of curiosity and interest in his gaze as it settled on Signy.

Loki might have been tempted to pick at Thor a bit more but he could tell that his brother hadn’t just been on another tryst to Earth. He held Signy’s hand as they strode over to where Thor sat. “Brother, you look haggard. Out gallivanting around Midgard again? Needed a change of pace?” he asked of his shorter hair.

Thor looked up with a glower. “I have been searching everywhere for our father, brother,” he growled. “I was unable to find him.” He paused. “Who is this?”

Loki smiled. “This is Signy Hansen. She was raised on Midgard and I have brought her here to see Asgard. She is quite special.”

Thor narrowed his eyes, turning to look at Signy warily. “Are you a sorceress? Why would my brother, who hates mortals, bring a mortal here?” he asked. “Special how?”

“She is not a sorceress, she is a warrior, and she has gained quite the reputation here among the folk of the city,” Loki bragged. “Just ask around and they’ll tell you how she saved children from a pack of Frost Giants.”

“You didn’t answer my other question, brother,” Thor growled. “Why would you bring her here?”

“My mother’s father’s name was Hans, thus, ‘Han’s son’, Hansen,” Signy said quietly. “But Hans was not my father.”

Loki looked over at her, then to Thor. “You have been gone a long time, brother, and our father as well. The city looks to me to rule. I have taken that responsibility on my shoulders, so why should i not also enjoy the benefits that rule can bring? I can bring her here if I so desire, just as you brought Jane here. Why should I not be given the same treatment? Odin isn’t here to deride me.”

Thor smashed his fist into the table. “You still have not answered my question, brother!” he roared, bolting to his feet. “WHY have you brought her here? And don’t put our father’s name in your poisonous mouth!”

Signy blinked, instantly stepping in front of Loki, one arm out, easing him back step by step, mindful of her oath to always defend Loki. “I have no hidden agendas, Odinson,” she said quietly. “Your anger is unwarranted.”

Loki blinked, then smiled as she took a step in front of him. She really was something else to watch, and the more he learned about her, the more he found himself more caught up in her. He was beginning to wonder if he wasn’t the one being trapped.

“This is your last warning, Loki,” Thor growled. “Answer my question or you and your doxy will pay the price,” he snarled.

Unbridled fury unfurled across Signy’s face at the slur, but she smashed it down, continuing to back Loki away from his hair-trigger-temper brother. “Is he always like this?” she asked calmly, shaking her head. “I mean, I know the lore says he can be, but I thought he was the one who liked mortals.”

“Always like this, his temper is quick and he doesn’t stop to think about his actions, usually,” Loki said, wanting to rile Thor even more. If she saw how he truly was, there would be less chance of her thinking Thor was the “good” one. She would see him for what he was.

Thor roared, his face gone red, and his arm swung up and he hurled his hammer at Loki. Signy shoved Loki back out of the way as hard as she could and stepped to the side, one arm snapping out in a hopeless attempt to knock the hammer out of the air. Her fingers brushed it and her hand closed convulsively--

\--and the hammer’s momentum bled away, as she stood there, holding it in one hand.

It was like the entire room went suddenly silent. Even Loki was struck dumb, his eyes wide as she held the hammer with no effort. He wanted to speak, to say something, but words wouldn’t filter through his brain. He was too stunned.

The servants who had been present, setting the table, had frozen in their tracks, eyes huge as they stared at something that simply could not be, a half-mortal girl holding Thor’s hammer, as if she was worthy. They set their plates down hastily and scurried from the room, already beginning to whisper among themselves.

“Odin’s beard,” Thor breathed, looking flabbergasted. “What--?” He was staring, looking as shocked as if she had slapped him. “What is this?”

“My name is Signy Odinsdottir, brother, and I will thank you not to be hurling this around willy-nilly where it could hurt someone,” Signy said calmly. “It is beneath you, and I would have expected my older brother to have better control over his temper than this.”

Loki loved the look on Thor’s face, but the fact that she told him who she was right away would cut down on the amount of tormenting he could dole out to his brother.

Thor’s brow arched. “Odinsdottir? Is that why she is here, brother?” He still had said nothing about the fact that she was still holding his hammer.

“That is why I am here, Odinson,” Signy answered for Loki. “We share a father. Loki came to fetch me just two days ago and brought me to Asgard.” She looked down at the hammer in her hand. 

Thor looked at her, then to Loki. “What treachery are you up to, Brother? You never do anything unless there is some ulterior motive. What plans do you have?”

“Nothing. I found out about her and brought her here. I thought it fitting that Odin had a daughter who was part human,” he lied as he looked at Thor. “And she’s rather striking, and deadly, most deadly.”

Signy walked forward and held out the hammer to Thor. “You should take better care of your weapons,” she said, offering it back to him. “If you please.”

Loki looked at her as if she were mad. “Why would you hand it back? He threw it at you and you are apparently more than worthy to hold it,” he said to her.

Thor glared at his brother, then reached for the hammer. “Thank you, sister,” he said as he took it from her grasp. He still had no idea what to say to her. He knew his father had other children with women other than his mother, but he had never known of any children on Midgard.

Signy turned toward Loki and arched a brow. “It doesn’t belong to me,” she said patiently. “I caught it to keep it from hurting someone, but I am no thief. It would be wrong of me to keep it.”

He smiled to hide his frustration. “You’re right, my dear, I just know how he likes to fling it around in anger. You’ll find it happens far more than you’d expect.”

“Loki!” Thor growled at him. “Maybe if your mouth stayed shut more I would not lose my temper.”

“Peace,” Signy said. “You have returned home after being gone. I have just come here after spending my whole life on Midgard.” She turned to smile at Loki. “The last few days have been more eventful than I am accustomed to. Perhaps we could table the arguments just for a bit?”

“Fair enough,” Loki said as he took her hand and then kissed it. “I believe I can behave myself for your sake, m’lady.”

“Thank you, Loki,” she murmured softly. She stepped in close to him and leaned in. “I appreciate it a great deal.”

He took her hands and then leaned in to kiss her. “Anything for you, my little wolf.” he told her with a smile, then looked to Thor. “A truce, brother, for the time being.”

Signy sank down into a chair and looked up at Loki to see if he would follow suit. Some of the servants had come back and were cleaning things up and continuing to set the table. They brought mead to herself and Loki and Thor. She looked down at her new brother curiously. 

Loki sat down next to her and made sure he reached over to take her hand in his. “I am assuming that you didn’t find father at all?” he asked quietly, looking at the table, then back to Thor.

“Nay, I looked in all the places he was wont to visit in the past,” Thor said. “I thought I might find him in one village Heimdall said he visited in Norway; but it was deserted, and there was no trace of those who had been there, save for a recent funeral pyre.” He lifted his stein of mead and drank deeply of it. “I am at a loss. If he has gone somewhere new, it might be anywhere--even beyond Midgard in one of the other worlds of that realm.”

Signy opened her mouth to ask about the village he mentioned and then pain slammed into her head like a fist, wiping away her vision of everything around her. Instead, she saw tall buildings, many cars, busy people scurrying like roaches. Above her head soared a tall tower marked with an ‘A’, and crouched in the shadow of the nearby parking garage was an older man with silver-grey hair and beard, clad in ragged, dirty clothes, a patch over one eye, a brown paper bag containing a bottle of cheap wine in his hands.

Loki turned as he saw Signy’s face go white and she almost fell into him. He turned to grab her, holding her against his chest, “Signy?! What? What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice panicked.

Loki’s voice came from far away, and she felt herself drawing closer to the old man, as if she was floating. There were scars on his hands, scars around the eyepatch, and an expression of deep sorrow on his face. A harsh, croaking sound came from overhead and she looked up to see two huge ravens perched on the branch of the nearest tree, watching her intently with beady eyes. “Odin--” she whispered, the sound barely audible as it slipped from her lips.

Loki held her against him. “What about him? Did you see him?” he asked quickly and quietly.

She shook off the vision, her head spinning, temples throbbing, and nodded weakly. “Alive,” she said, one shaky hand reaching for her mead. “The ravens...they watch over him.” She took a long drink to slake her dry throat. “I haven’t traveled the world, I saw a big city but I don’t know which city it was. There was a tall tower there, marked with a large ‘A’. He sat in the shadow of that place.”

Thor’s eyes widened and he stood, “Truly?! This place, it was very tall, rounded at the top? An unusual shaped building, taller than some of the others that surrounded it?” he asked her quickly. She nodded, and he looked at Loki then, “I know where he is!”

“That was the place,” she said. “I don’t know it, but I’d recognize it if I saw it again. I know exactly where he was sitting.”

‘I know where that is. It is the headquarters, or used to be, for the Avengers. Things have changed, but that is where they used to gather. I know this building and can take us right there,” he said. “You will come with me, yes?” he asked her.

She turned to look at Loki. “I gave my oath to you,” she said, very quietly. “So you tell me whether I can do so.”

Loki looked to her and gave a nod. “I’ll go with you as well. We’ll have to blend in, but we three can go if there is a chance to bring Odin home where he belongs,” he said as he looked at Thor. Behind the calm mask, he was already planning, trying to decide what to do next.

Thor huffed and rolled his eyes but he didn’t argue. “We leave at dawn,” he said then looked to Signy. “It was very nice to meet you, sister. I look forward to hearing of your life on Midgard,” he said, smiling as he finished his drink and left them alone once more.

Signy watched him go, then turned to Loki. “Thank you for giving permission,” she said. “I appreciate it. I may not want anything to do with my father, but...I accept he should probably be back here.”

“I want to know how and why he is on Midgard," he offered facilely. "I have different abilities to get me there and back but Odin does not,” he said as he looked at her. “Your vision seemed very clear,” he said as he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it.

“I suspect, since my Asgardian blood is the source of my gift, that the visions are clearer because I’m in Asgard,” she said. “As to why he’s there, that I cannot know from my vision.” She smiled at him quietly. “Perhaps he will tell us, when we find him.”

“Perhaps, or perhaps he won’t remember us, which is also a concern. Did he seem well? And you said he was in the shadow of the building, was he standing in it? Was the vision very clear?” he asked carefully, rubbing her hand softly.

“He was seated, in the shadow of the parking garage across the street. There was a crabapple tree planted nearby, that’s where the ravens were. It was very clear,” she said. “No metaphor at all, unlike the one about the frost giants. I saw them as huge icicles in that vision, daggers of ice.” She shook her head. “As to if he was well…” She hedged. “He was dressed in rags and drinking the cheapest of swill.”

“Oh,” he said looking at her, then away. “Why would he be…that makes no sense. He has followers and some friends on Midgard,” he said as he licked his lips. “Maybe the Frost Giants you saw as ice because you had never seen a true Frost Giant before,” he offered. “Odin looks much like humans, so it was easy for your mind to spin the image up,” he thought aloud. “Either way we will find out in the morning.”

She nodded. “It’ll be hours until then,” she said quietly. “They were setting the table for dinner...what did you want to do until then?”

“Would you care to talk a walk through the gardens here? Or we could walk down to the waters of the lake, you could see the Bifrost from there,” he offered. “We have at least an hour or more before dinner, what would you like to do?” he asked as he lifted her hand and kissed it again.

“I think I would like to see the Bifrost,” she said, smiling. “I caught a brief glimpse the other night at dinner, but it was far away, and then I was too busy arguing.”

To the Bifrost then,” he said as he stood holding out his hand to her. “What did you think of your brother?” he asked as they moved into the hall and walked toward the stairs that lead to a series of elevated walkways between buildings.

She was quiet for a moment before answering. “I think he has serious anger issues that should be addressed. In my village, we would have considered him a berserker. Berserkers can be useful, defending the village, but sometimes they would go berserk against villagers, get angry over something small, and someone could end up dead. That would not be good.” She tilted her head to glance at him. “Would it have killed you, if his hammer hit you?” she asked. “I need to know.”

“Probably not, he’s never been able to hit me before. My magic helps me avoid his temper tantrums more often than not. We have fought many times, Signy, and he has yet to kill me. We are brothers, we may dislike each other, a lot--" An understatement still, he thought, "--but he is still my brother.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “It’s good to hear that,” she said. “If he killed you, I would have to kill him, or try. I do not want to do that, but honor would demand it.”

Loki laughed. “Well, I don’t think you need to worry about that too much. He’s not been able to do so and I doubt he would truly kill me. But thank you, dear. To know you would consider it your duty to avenge me, that makes me, how would they say it on Midgard, warm and fuzzy,” he teased her, squeezing her hand.

She threw him a severe look. “You are mocking me,” she said, irate. “I suppose you don’t think I could best him.”

“No, I wasn’t. I might have been making light of it but not mocking you. I have seen you fight, Signy. I saw what you did to those frost giants. Thor would most definitely underestimate you and you would best him. I have no doubt of that. You also know he can be angered and pushed to a breaking point. Those give you the advantage. I was not mocking in any way, love,” he told her.

She softened, nodding. “All right,” she murmured, looping her arm through his. “I take my oath to you seriously.”

“I see this,” he said as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I didn’t, and I apologize for that. You are a rare woman and I am very lucky to have your trust,” he told her. Very lucky, he mused. They walked past a set of doors, and then to another set, guarded by two men. They both stepped aside, then Loki pushed the door open for both of them to walk through. 

She stepped outside with him, gazing down at the path that led out of the palace along to the lake. The sun shone down brightly, and she waited for him to step to her side before taking his arm again. There were people going to and fro along the streets as they walked, and it was impossible not to notice the sidelong looks she was getting. She frowned.

He glanced over at her, “Why the long face?” he asked, “I thought you would enjoy our walk?” he asked her.

“I am,” she said. “I...just...people keep staring at me. I don’t know why and it’s making me uncomfortable.” She looked at him. “I feel like I did something wrong.”

“They’re looking at us. It has been a very, very long time since I had a woman at my side. I have been very selective in who I spend my time with.” It was impossible to say how much of an understatement that was, and it had been years since a woman had been on his arm in public.

“They’re whispering,” she murmured. “I am...unaccustomed to being a source of attention.” She shook her head. “I should ignore it.”

“You should. You will learn that the people of Asgard love to know about the royal families, and the royal houses. It isn’t as bad as it is on Midgard, but there is gossiping, as you would expect. A lot of citizens feel like Thor and I should take wives. I have never done so. Thor was in love with a Midgardian woman named Jane Foster, but she left him,” he explained. “So both of us are single and there are people who would like to see that changed.”

She blinked, her face going neutral. “Um. That is a topic of conversation I don’t think I am remotely ready for,” she finally said.

He gave her an amused nod. “I promise not to bring it up,” he said as they walked along a narrow walkway that opened into a rather large marketplace. “Would you care to look at some of the tables and offerings?” he asked as they strolled casually along.

She thought about it. “I suppose there are a few small things I could use,” she said at last. “You have been kind enough to provide a sheath for Olaf’s sword, and soap, and a hairbrush, and some gowns. I understand it will be winter here eventually, and I’ll want a cloak, preferably hooded, and warm gloves.”

“I have already thought of that. We are going to have to have more clothes made for you for here, as well as new armor, since your last armor was damaged when you saved the children,” he said with a smile. “You need just tell me what you would like, and it’s yours.”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you, Loki,” she said quietly. “I’ll ask for things I need, actually need, but you are not Sinterklaas and I am not a child.” She offered him a little smile to take the sting out of it.

He stopped and looked at her. “My love, will you stop? If I want to give you clothes to wear, and new armor, I will do so. It is something I want to do. I enjoy that I can give you things and I will admit that I will like seeing you in Asgardian dresses and admiring you in them. Stop complaining and let me spoil you, please?” he asked, reaching out to slide his hand into her hair. “Even if you keep complaining, I will continue to spoil you,” he told her as he leaned in to kiss her.

She met his kiss with a shiver, her arms going down to wrap around his waist. “You change like the wind,” she murmured against his lips. “And you keep calling me...that.”

“Keep calling you what? Love? Or Little Wolf?” he asked her. “Both are accurate and what I will call you, along with your name,” he said as he held her close and kissed her again. “Because I can,” he grinned.

“The first,” she said, sounding a little hoarse. “‘Little wolf’ doesn’t bother me. It’s a name I can even take pride in. But…” She fidgeted. “You’ve said you’d never let me go. Like your favorite toy. You said nothing of…the other.” Her head dipped. “And I enjoy being between the sheets with you, but...I have never before had any sort of intimate relationship with anyone before, obviously. Never really anyone to love, other than my mother. I don’t have any idea if what I feel is...that. Or just passion.” She looked up at him. “Please don’t be angry. It’s so much. Coming here, being with you...sometimes my emotions feel like they will strangle me.”

He looked down at her. “Then maybe you should stop thinking so much and just feel?” he said, tilting his head. “Get out of your own head, get out of your own way,” he leaned in and kissed her nose. “You’re beautiful and you should enjoy being happy and feeling all these things.”

She sighed and took his hand in hers. “I’ll try,” she said, subdued. “I want you to be happy.”

“Well, maybe I want you to be happy?” he said as he took her face in his hands. “Please, try and enjoy this life you have? Please?”

“I am,” she said. “I do, aside from having dead frost giants fall on me. I am just...not sure I know what I am feeling, because I have no experience with it. That’s all. I love this walk we’re on. I know I enjoy being in your bed. I enjoy my training and practice. I very much enjoy knowing there’ll be enough food to get us through the winter.”

He smiled. “Then that is all I ask. Enjoy the comfort that you have found here. I intend to enjoy all my time with you while we are here. If you let me,” he teased her.

She laughed. “I know better than to think I could stop you,” she said. 

“Well then, that is another thing we agree on,” he laughed as he released her and they began to walk once more. He glanced over at her. “Have you thought of what you would like to do here? I am sure you’d make a fine warrior, but is that what you want?” he asked thoughtfully.

She shook her head, looking amused. “I am a warrior, here or anywhere I go,” she said. “I have not been here long enough to make any decisions. I suppose I would do well in the guard, but I think I must table any decisions until Odin is found.” Her smile bled away. “What...what do I do if, once he returns, he does not want me here?” she asked.

“It’s not his choice, you’re here with me, if he doesn’t want you here, then he is a fool. But I can assure you that he won’t react that way. He will be shocked, but he will not treat you badly or force you away. Even if I don’t always get along with him, I know that he will not treat you unkindly.”

She nodded, but she was quiet. “I do not know if I want a father,” she said at last, “but the thought of him not finding me good enough…” She trailed off. “I suppose it worries me.”

“I don’t think he would ever find you not worthy. You are absolutely stunning, and you move like a Valkyrie, but even more beautifully. I think the humanity in you makes you even more amazing. You can hold your own against the others, and they admire that too.”

She slanted him a wry smile. “You say this because I am in your bed and you want me to remain there,” she chuckled. “I expect he will have an entirely different point of view, and it may not be so kind.”

“And I think you are far too negative for one so young,” he said as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. “And you worry far too much.”

“I prefer to think of it as being realistic,” she said simply. “My presence makes people realize he was not faithful to the Lady Frigga. I don't expect he will like that much, and may respond appropriately. I have found that if I expect the worst out of every situation, I am sometimes pleasantly surprised when it does not happen...but I am never disappointed.”

Privately, he considered that she was probably greatly understating how Odin was likely to react to her appearance here. "But is that really a way to live your life, always thinking the worst and then waiting for the next “shoe to drop,” so to speak? What is life if you never enjoy the fruits of it?” he asked as they strolled along. Having her there to infuriate Odin, to make Odin lose his temper, to rant, to rave, to accuse--that was exactly the sort of thing he had hoped for when he had brought Signy here. Let the other Asgardians see exactly what kind of person his father was at heart. 

“You misunderstand,” Signy said. “I enjoy life a great deal...all the more so, barring training accidents, since I have come here. But I do not walk around thinking I am entitled to good things. Life’s rewards must be earned through duty and honor, and are not simply to be expected for existing.”

He nodded. “Very well, now I understand. Apologies,” he said as they walked. She was far too perceptive; it had the capacity to cause problems. He would have to be careful. “When your mother told you that you were Odin’s child, did you believe her right away, or did it happen over time?” he asked, glancing over to look at her.

She shrugged. “It was a wonder to me, but she had never lied to me before, so I had no reason to think she might be telling an untruth in the matter. I thought about it for weeks, but in truth, it didn’t change my life much. I didn’t suddenly begin to think I was owed more. She might not have told me, save for the fact that the visions had started shortly before that, and I was afraid I had a tumor in my brain causing me to hallucinate. But I was not having pain in my head, or forgetfulness, or phantom smells and sounds and tastes, or any other symptoms, so her explanation made somewhat more sense. After that, I was only grateful for my parentage in that the visions did help me better protect the village in some cases. There was a man from one of the bigger cities. He sometimes came to trade with us for furs. On his last visit, he took a lust for one of the younger girls, the oldest of those that came here to Asgard with us. She told me he was trying to convince her to come away with him, and had said he would take her if she did not. I found him in the woods. He tried to take that from me which was not his to have, and he was completely incapable of defeating me in battle, even with his gun. I removed his head and buried him.”

Loki looked at her. "From what i understand, many Midgardian women would have screamed and tried to run, or called for help...and fallen prey to him." He shook his head. “You are such a strong woman, Signy, and I mean that. You have lived on Midgard in the worst of conditions, without the technology that the rest of the world uses and you have excelled at everything you have put your mind to. You are truly amazing.”

“We had some technology. That was mostly what we traded for. We had radios, and walkie-talkies for the hunting parties, and solar panels to go along with our fireplaces, so we could have light and heat during the long winters without completely destroying the forests where we hunted. We had one computer, mostly for research. But we didn’t bother with frivolous technology, which most of Midgard seems to worships. No TVs. No cable dishes. No stereos. No video games or cable or ‘boom boxes’ or things like that. But we had one of those machines to jump-start the heart if someone had a heart attack, and they made each of us learn to use it when we turned 18. We had modern medicine--vaccines and antibiotics and such.”

“I see. When I arrived, the fact that no one had guns struck me as most odd, but I guess there is the added benefit of not accidentally killing a child if they play with it. I can almost understand why your people decided to live such a life, away from all the technology and things that make humans so...crazy over them.”

“We have guns. We just have a limited supply of ammo, and can’t restock it easily, so we save it for the most important things. Every winter the hunters take the towing sledge and go to the coast to hunt whales. That meat and blubber provide at least half our winter diet,” she said. “We aren’t Saami, we don’t have boats or harpoons, so we use skiffs and guns to hunt those that get closest to shore. Also polar bears and seals and walrus.”

“Don’t let the Midgardian 'tree huggers' hear you say that, they might bash your head in,” he teased. “Humans amaze me really, they destroy everything they have, then argue over whether or not it’s right to destroy it. Weird beings,” he said. “Your clan, not so much. You lived the old code, take only what you need and use everything without waste.”

“Exactly!” she said, pleased he understood. “As far north as we were, we could not grow plants, and since grass could grow only two months of the year, we could not graze cattle or sheep or even goats. We managed chickens and rabbits with indoor hutches, since they can manage on very little, and pigs, because they will eat scraps. But the reindeer herds that the Sami and Lapps raised, those had to be moved constantly; they could graze a field to the soil in a day. We were not nomadic like that; we could not follow the herds. So we hunted.”

He nodded, “I see. So you were still close enough to a town where supplies could be purchased in an emergency, but for the most part you lived off the way of your ancestors.” He stopped and looked at her. Everything he learned about her would make her easier to manipulate; the more he could manipulate her, the better a tool she became. “What about that life, did you enjoy? If you knew there was a world with more comfort, and less struggle, why did you not go find it?” he was curious. Most humans he knew wanted to find the quickest and easiest way to do anything.

She looked amused. “There’s no place for someone like me in that world, Asgardian,” she giggled. “What would I do? I have no formal schooling. Should I go to Oslo and hunt walrus there? I have none of the mortal world’s “ID” or paperwork that my mother once told me about. I know only the most basic things about using tech. I cannot use a computer, or drive a vehicle. My village, my people, they gave me purpose. I hunted, I protected the village, I trained the younglings. I had duty. I had honor. I do not think I would have been happy in other parts of the mortal world. Indeed, I am not certain I would not have been a subject of mockery...and my control over my temper is so little better than my older brother’s that I cannot say people would not have died for it, especially if any of them tried to manhandle me.”

He laughed. “Well I guess when you say it that way, it does seem like your world was far better. But I cannot see your anger being worse than Thor’s. You seem to at least think first, then react. He reacts, then thinks. And trust me, I have seen your fighting abilities and I intend to not be on your bad side at anytime. Now manhandling you, that could prove to be a more.. interesting endeavor.” he teased, pulling her close to him once more.

She chuckled softly. “Ah, but I don’t mind it when you manhandle me.” She slid her hand between them, hidden by their bodies pressed together, and into his pants. “I rather like your man handle.”

His brows shot up and he smiled, leaning in and kissing her quickly. It was a kiss filled with desire and passion. He backed her against the small stone ledge, his mouth traveling along her jaw to her ear. “You play a dangerous game, little wolf.” he whispered in her ear. He licked the spot just under her earlobe; he wanted her utterly dazzled by love and desire for him, unable to think clearly. All too happy to just follow his orders when he gave them, if he could manage it.

Her eyes went wide and she giggled. “We’re out in public! You wouldn’t dare! What if someone came along?”

“What if they did? That is the fun, isn’t it?” he said as he nipped at her neck. “And what if they saw? Or what if they couldn’t see? And could only hear our soft sounds of passion?” he asked her. “A simple spell of misdirection is all one needs.”

She moaned at the feel of his teeth against her neck. “I’m not that much of an... exhibitionist,” she said, pausing to try to translate that, and then just using the Norwegian term for the latter.

“But no one will see, if I don’t want them to,” he said as his hand slid over her breast, cupping it with his hand. His fingers teased her skin along her neck and throat as he pulled away to look at her. “Or I could get us to someplace far more private, if you wish,” he offered.

She swallowed hard. “Private. Please,” she whispered, her gaze locked with his. There was gooseflesh rising along her arms and the back of her neck, and she shivered.

He gave a nod and leaned in to kiss her. He pulled away, made a gesture with his hand and they were back in his room, standing near his bed. He grabbed her and kissed her hard and fast, holding her tight against him.

Her arms wound around him, one at his waist, the other around his shoulder. “Help me out of these clothes,” she muttered. “You men have it so easy. Breeches and tunic, and never thirty pounds of skirts that take two other people to unlace.” She kicked off her boots and unbuckled the sword at her waist.

“Yes,” he said, his hands beginning to work at the laces at the back of the dress, unlacing it as fast as he could, “I might have to make a suggestion to the seamstress soon,” he told her.

“The armor is good,” she murmured as she started undoing the belt at his waist, then the laces of his pants. “But I could wish to dress like men all the time. It’s certainly more useful in battle.”

“That it is, but you look beautiful in a dress,” he told her, his mouth claiming hers in another kiss as he tugged the dress downward, off her arms. He pulled from her lips to look at her. “But some leggings and tunics would be a good idea for you,” he said as he looked down at her breasts, which were almost freed of the dress. He tugged the dress off of her torso, letting gravity pull it down, and her breasts spilled out.

She grinned. “Tunic and leggings would fit more closely to my curves,” she said. “And I’m not against a lower neckline.” She gave him a devilish look and tugged his tunic off over his head, tossing it aside. “Damn your boots.”

“Indeed,” he said to her comment about the tunic. He leaned down and grabbed the boots, tugging them off quickly and tossing them beside the door. His pants were tossed aside as well and he moved to her, leaning in and wrapping his mouth around a breast, tasting it with a contented sound, a hand moving to grasp and tease the nipple of its twin.

Signy arched forward, as if to feed her breast deeper into his mouth, and groaned. She reached out to grasp his hips, pulling him closer. “Stop that,” she said peremptorily. “The angle’s all wrong and I want to try something you showed me.” She slithered out of his grasp by just bending her knees, dropping down so that her face was at a level with his groin, and then took his manhood into her hand before leaning forward to wrap her lips around his shaft and take him in.

“What do you think--” he was caught mid-sentence as she dropped in front of him and one hand sank into her hair. “Are you trying to kill me?” he gasped, her mouth around him made him shudder and he could feel himself harden like steel. He looked down, enthralled by the sight of her on her knees, her mouth around him.

She flicked her eyes up at him with a teasing grin, but didn’t bother trying to talk with her mouth full. She was too busy exploring the shape of him with her tongue--his length, his thickness, the silken texture of his skin, and the salty stickiness he was making. She reached down to cup his scrotum with one hand, balancing expertly on her feet, and drew her head back slowly, then forward again, her lips tucked over her teeth so as not to accidentally bite him, moving faster bit by bit as she got used to the act.

He gripped her hair tighter, holding close to her scalp more for his own steadiness. He wasn’t attempting to guide her at all, but rather enjoy every second of the pleasure she was bestowing on him. He groaned, his voice low as she cupped him in her hand, his head falling back as he licked his parched lips.

Signy was eager to taste him, sliding forward again, her other hand coming up to brace herself against the hard muscle of his thigh, and she tightened her lips and tongue around him. Her eyes narrowed in pleasure at his reaction, and she found the sting of his fingers tugging at her hair only ran a shiver through her, tightening her nipples and making her wet. Very carefully, she scraped her teeth lightly against the bell-shaped helmet on the next stroke.

He hissed in pleasure, the slight sting of pain making his need only that much stronger. If he did not know better, he would have sworn she had years of pleasing men, but he knew she had not. She was naturally gifted and he was a willing and glad recipient. His hand tightened in her hair once more, his legs shaking just slightly as she took him higher, the tension winding tighter inside him.

She moaned around his hard flesh, licking every drop of his honey as he offered it to her, the very edge of her throat engulfing his helmet at the limit of what she could take, and tightening around it with each swallow. Her fingers formed a ring around his base to help guide him, and she shivered at the ticklish feeling of his curly hairs brushing her nose every time she reached the base end of him.

He looked down at her, letting her continue for only a few more moments before he grabbed her hair and pulled her back away from him. His heart was slamming in his chest as her gaze lifted to him. “That mouth of yours is very talented, but right now there are other places than your mouth I want to be,” he said as he helped her to stand.

“Hey! I wasn’t done,” she pouted. “I want to see you fall apart like I know I did.”

“Oh I will, I promise you I will let you break me into a thousand pieces, but right now I want to bury myself inside you,” he said as he pushed her back to the bed. He crawled over her, his mouth scorching kisses up along her abdomen and breasts, stopping to suckle at the right, then the left.

She moaned, shuddering under his kisses, feeling the heat like a brand everywhere their skin touched. She buried her hands in his hair, arching into his mouth, her nipples going hard as his tongue teased them. “Oh, gods,” she gasped. “You do that so damn well…”

“I’m glad you think so,” he said as he moved up from a breast to suck and nip at her neck. He teased her nipple with his finger, tugging then pinching lightly. His mouth moved along her jaw until his mouth came crashing down on hers. At almost the same time he moved between her legs, sliding himself along her slit slowly.

She met his kiss with a wolf’s ferocity at the hunt, her lips meshing with his, her tongue aggressively sliding between his parted lips to tease against his. Her hands wound around his shoulders, and then one broke free to slide down his back, grasp one curving cheek, and gave it a squeeze. She lifted her legs to wind them around his hips, locking them at the ankle.

He didn’t intend to make her wait too long, and after two more slow strokes along her body, he lined himself up and began to fill her. It wasn’t a quick hard thrust, but this time it was achingly slow. He gazed down at her as he watched her face. Seeing the pleasure as it spread over her features made him even harder than he was as he finally was seated deep inside her.

“God, you make me feel so good,” she moaned, writhing under him. Her hands were fisted in the sheets she had torn earlier. Her thighs were trembling, locked around him, and she clenched her eyes shut, her inner channel going tight around him in pleasure.

“That is exactly what I wanted to hear,” he told her as he began to take slow strokes in and out of her, holding himself up over her. He couldn’t believe how tight she felt, and the control she seemed to have over her body as they moved together. He rolled his hips with each thrust, rubbing against her even as he filled her.

Her arms shifted, first going around his shoulders, then sliding down over his chest, one hand catching one of his nipples and rolling it between finger and thumb. With her other hand hooked over his shoulder still, she drew him down to her so she could kiss along his throat, nipping a line from his earlobe to the place where neck and shoulder joined, leaving little teeth imprints along the way even as her hips swam up to meet his with every thrust.

He groaned at her attentions, not expecting them but very much welcoming and enjoying them. He lowered himself down to his forearms, bringing their chests together as they moved in an ancient dance of give and take. He leaned in to suck and nibble at her throat as she had done with his and he moved up along her jaw until reaching her mouth. He kissed her then, his tongue pushing into her mouth, twisting with hers. He moaned into the kiss as she pulled him tighter to her with her legs.

Her breath hissed out of her nostrils and she arched up against him, dragging the nails of one hand down over his chest, leaving bright red welts that stung in a not-at-all-unpleasant way. She shuddered underneath him as his mouth claimed hers. When she pulled her mouth away for a moment, she panted into his lips. “Leave your mark on me,” she groaned. “I know it’ll heal quickly, I always do, but I want to bear your brand, even if only for a moment.”

He gazed down at her and then he kissed her again. It was passionate, hard, even desperate as he moved faster, his hips still moving so he could grind against her mound with each thrust. He didn’t slow and he kissed and suckled along her neck, moving from one side to the other. He would mark her when the time was perfect.

Signy moaned as his thrusts grew harder, her hands moving up to his shoulders again, nails digging in without volition. She was shaking now, as the fire coiled tighter in her gut, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Each stroke thrummed along her button as well as driving deep inside her. “So--” she whimpered, and between that breath and the next, it broke over her like a tidal wave, locking her limbs. Her head fell back against the pillow as a howl erupted from her lips.

He felt it, felt her body tighten and as he felt her hit that point, he leaned down and bit her shoulder, hard enough that it left a mark. He sucked at it just slightly and made sure it would mark her for at least a few hours. She felt so good and he kept using those same movements, sliding in and out of her, feeling her tighten around him to the point he thought he might rip her apart if she was any tighter.

Her howl turned into a scream when he bit her, and she came apart under him, jerking, writhing, arching, and finally collapsing onto the bed under him, flesh warm with exertion, shining with a dew of sweat, the scent of her passion perfuming the air, panting with bliss.

When she screamed, the sound of it was what he needed and he slammed his hips into hers, exploding inside of her, his seed filling her as his shaft spasmed and twitched inside her. He rested his head against her shoulder, panting as his heart pounded inside his chest. He closed his eyes for a moment; the way she made him feel was dangerous, because it distracted him from the purpose he had brought her here in the first place. It was one thing to call her 'love'; another entirely to forget himself in the passion of the moment, to look down into her blissful face and feel strange things inside that he had not felt before...nor wanted to.

She lay there under him for a little while, enjoying his weight pinning her down, enjoying his scent and his heat and the wetness of his seed inside her, and the sting of his bite on her shoulder. She smiled. “Hah, I only meant you to color my skin,” she laughed softly. “Not that I mind this, at all.” 

He lifted his head and gazed at her with a big smile. “You said to mark you, you didn’t give specifics. Besides, I think you enjoyed that more than you expected, did you not?” he asked, leaning to touch his nose to hers.

“Perhaps,” she chuckled. “You didn’t draw blood, at least. I know you could have.” She reached up to caress the side of his face. “I will have to return the favor sooner or later, my Loki.”

The way she said his name made his heart full and he smiled against his will. “That you will, my little wolf. So since our trip to the Bifrost was cut short, what would you like to do for the rest of the evening? Shall I send for food to be brought to our room? Or would you like to go down and join the others for a more formal dinner?” he asked her.

“I want to lay here in bed and cuddle with you for awhile and talk about what I need to do to not have babies,” she said. “I said I didn’t want them. If that means you only get to play with my hands and mouth, so be it, but there have to be better options available. No human birth control here, but maybe...herbs?”

“Yes, and we have other methods, as well. I can use magic to make sure that you do not become with child,” he told her. “And if ever comes a time that you want a child, then we can most definitely discuss it,” he told her. He could give her time to get accustomed to life on Asgard and then, if he felt the need, he could revisit the thought of her bearing his children at a later date. Nothing tied a woman to a man faster then children. “And we can stay here all night. I will have Oda bring us some foods to snack on, how does that sound?”

“That would be fine, thank you,” she said, curled up in his arms. She reached down to tug the blanket up to cover the both of them. “The magic...how soon could you do it? Twice you have bedded me now, and I know exactly where I am at in my cycle, which worries me a bit. If we don’t fix things soon, you will have to keep your hands off me for the next ten days, and I don’t want that any more than you do.”

He looked over at her. “I can do it now,” he said quietly. He lifted his hand and moved it over her body, muttering a few words and he waved his hand over her once, then twice. There was a soft bluish light that seemed to brighten, then fade. “And there you go my dear, no little ones.” And just as easy to remove it while she slept, and claim that outside influences had affected his magic.

“Huh. I feel no different. But thank you. It was a growing concern, and a concern that something might be growing.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I may end up drifting off. I promise you, if I do, it is not a commentary on your companionship, simply that it has been a hectic last few days.” She planted a kiss on the smooth skin of his chest.

He positioned himself next to her, pulling her over to lay in the crook of his arm and chest. “I think a nap sounds wonderful. We have no one to answer to, and we can enjoy the evening on our own terms,” he told her. He smiled as he leaned over to press a kiss to her temple. “You deserve some rest.”

She nodded sleepily. “You too,” she murmured, but her voice was already crumbling, and she tucked a leg up over his thighs and closed her eyes, her head pillowed on his shoulder. In seconds, her breathing evened out, going shallow and slow as she slept.

He listened to her steady breathing, staring up at the ceiling over his bed. His mind raced from one thing to another, mostly that she knew where Odin was, and secondly, that as much as he wanted to dislike her, to hate her because of who her father was, he instead was coming to admire he, for her strength and compassion. 

That would not do at all.

He found himself drifting off, thinking about how she’d risked her life for the children even though she didn't want them, and his last coherent thought was of her holding Thor’s hammer.


	8. The Potential for Unweaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki must carefully watch his words while he plans to cover his tracks on the upcoming trip to New York with Thor and Signy to find Odin--all the more so because he was the one who abandoned Odin there. He had never planned to bring his father back, and now that his companions work to do so, he must make certain they do not learn that he is the reason Odin was lost in the first place. All this, while fighting his feelings for Signy and still trying to mold her into the tool he needs for his revenge.

Signy woke slow, surrounded by warmth and the feeling of an arm like a bar of iron draped across the dip of her waist as she lay on her side. The smell of food wafted to her from somewhere near, and she blinked sleepily and opened her eyes.

Loki was sleeping soundly, spooned against her, his arm tucked around her, holding her close against him. Her movements made him stir, but didn’t wake him entirely.

Signy lifted her head just in time to see Oda slipping out the door, having left a big tray of breakfast on a stand near the side of the bed, the source of the scents she had smelled. She lowered her head back to the bed and rolled over, inch by inch, in Loki’s embrace so she could watch his face as he slept. The sun was streaming in through the veiled windows, a light breeze blowing, and laying there in silence was peaceful and calming.

Her shifting her position woke him, but he didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t move at all, but he could feel her gaze on him. He made no move to let her know he was awake, and simply enjoyed the moments of doing nothing while having her wrapped in his arms. He knew it wouldn’t last long, since they had to make the trip to Midgard to look for Odin.

“Your breathing changed,” she said quietly, after a moment. “I know you’re awake. I did plenty of hunting on earth, I know the little signs.” She arched forward to plant a kiss on the tip of his chin. “Breakfast is here.”

He smiled but never opened his eyes. “My hunter,” he grinned. “Tricking you is going to be impossible,” he said with a smile. He opened his eyes and met her gaze. “I guess we both needed more sleep than we believed?”

“So it would seem, given you didn’t try to wake me to play all night long. Not that I would likely have woken. I think the healing after the frost giants took a lot out of me,” she said, sitting up in bed next to him.

“I would agree, and I didn’t wake up to even think of waking you. It has been a very busy few days for both of us. So shall I get up and grab our food?” he asked as he brushed her hair back from her face, not in a huge rush to move from where they lay.

“I can get it,” she chuckled. “I’m at least sitting upright.” She slipped out of the bed, walked over to grab the tray off its stand, and brought it back to the bed, setting it in the middle next to him.

He stretched before pushing himself up to sit. He watched her carry the food back to the bed and he smiled at how beautiful she was. Her hair, even tangled, was a mix of beautiful shades of fire and sun, twisting together to remind him of flame. He was unable to take his gaze off of her, his eyes roaming up and down her body as she walked back to the bed. When she sat the food down, he grabbed a piece of his favorite fruit and bit into it, smiling at her.

She chuckled. “You look like you’re about to put me on the menu,” she said.

“I was thinking something similar to that,” he agreed then laughed softly. “You are beautiful, and I was just watching you, thinking of all the things that make you so. And that your hair is like sun and fire twisting together.” he said as he bit into another slice of fruit.

She laughed softly. “I want to shower after I eat,” she said. “But my quarters just have a pitcher and a bowl and a cloth. If I’m moving in with you, I’m going to use your shower.” She paused, looking mischievous and thoughtful at the same time. “My arms are not freakishly long. I may need someone to help me wash my back. But we should probably not let it turn into anything more than that just yet. I’m sure our brother is itching to get rushing back to Midgard to look for Odin. We don’t want to have him crashing in on us in the middle of intimacy.”

“Thor would never dare just waltz into my private quarters. He is a bit smarter than that--not much, but a little,” he laughed and then looked at her. “If you would like to shower with me, I believe I might be able to behave, but then again… you are the most tempting woman I’ve ever known.”

“If you start things other than just washing, then, I’ll have to box your ears like a puppy,” she snorted. “You might be the big wolf and I the little one, but even a little one will stand up for itself when things go awry.” But she was smiling as she said it.

“Ooooohh, I think you just issued a challenge,” he teased, holding out a piece of buttered bread, pointing at her. “My little wolf is feisty today,” he said before taking a bite. He liked the easy playfulness between them.

She snorted, alternating between bacon and buttered toast, fruit, and tea. “Hmph. At least you didn’t call me ‘sassy’, which is a term best reserved for spoiled ponies,” she laughed.

“No, sassy is not you. Feisty, lively,” he paused, thinking. “Wicked, sexy, and tempting, so very tempting,” he told her with a smile.

“Ah, now you’re trying to seduce me with that silver tongue of yours again,” she laughed. “Incorrigible. Not that I mind too much. Flattery will get you....well, probably what you want. I don’t have much willpower when it comes to you.”

“It’s not flattery, it is the truth,” he told her with a smile. “And I will take the silver tongue comment as a compliment coming from you.” he laughed, “I am the one who lacks will around you. I have become a besotted fool."

She shook her head. “I doubt you have ever been a fool,” she said softly. Her plate was mostly empty, only a single crust of toast remaining. “You are far too clever and keen for that.” She smiled. “You soften my hard edges. No one has ever been able to do that before, not even my mother. I confess I don’t entirely know what to make of it.”

“Well, if I tell you that you have changed me and done the same, would you believe it? I wonder what it is about you that has me thinking of a different future and what it might hold,” he said as he looked at her. The admission was torn from him against his will, and he managed not to grimace. He was serious. There was nothing he was not admitting to her.

It was dangerous.

She popped the last crust of toast in her mouth, chewed and swallowed, and smiled. “That sounds ridiculously serious, coming from the only “god” with a sense of humor,” she teased. “I...have not yet had the courage to contemplate the things you are contemplating.”

“Thor has a sense of humor,” he told her. “it’s just not as… refined as mine.” He smiled as he plucked a sweet grape from the plate and offered it to her. “And there is no need for you to contemplate the future. I think we should enjoy ourselves as we go back to find Odin and bring him home,” he told her.

She grinned impishly. “What, as we go back to find them? I think both Odin and Thor would object to such a display,” she teased.

“Brat,” he laughed at her, and shook his head. “By the heavens, I think I have met someone almost as mouthy as me,” he told her, grabbing her neck as he leaned over to kiss her. 

She kissed him back for a moment. “There was no time in my day-to-day existence before for humor,” she said, not quite seriously. “I find I enjoy it quite a bit.”

“As you should,” he said as he slid from the bed, taking the tray to sit it aside on the nearby table. “We should dress comfortably. As soon as we reach New York we will want to get Midgardian clothing and wear it while we are there.” he told her. “Would you care to shower with me? And I promise to try and not molest you.”

She nodded, grinning. “Try...hard,” she said, and winked as she got to her feet.

There was a pounding on the door, loud and hard. “Brother!” Thor roared from the other side. “Enough with your lazing about! We have a mission to get to! We must save our father. The maiden’s vision may not come again!” There was a grinding sound as he pounded on the door again and then it popped open, leaving a clear line of view for the tall Asgardian to see both of them without a stitch of clothes on.

Signy did not gasp or flinch or grab the blankets, merely raised a brow. She was not self-conscious of her body; being raised in the open and shame-free Scandinavian culture had assured that. “You need to work on your impulse control, brother,” she said dryly.

Loki looked at Thor, then to Signy, “Maybe he _is_ that dumb,” he muttered. “Since when do you find it acceptable to just barge into my quarters?” he asked his brother.

Thor clapped a hand over his eyes, turning bright red. “I did not know you were…”

“We weren’t,” Signy said mildly. “That was last night. This morning we just had breakfast and were getting ready to shower and dress so we could come down and get going.”

“I…” Thor sounded strangled. “I will go wait. I...apologize for my impatience.”

“Apology accepted, now go and we will be down in a few moments,” Loki assured him, smirking at how bashful Thor was when it came to nudity. When Thor closed the door, Loki shook his head, “You’d think he’d never seen a naked woman before.”

She shook her head back at him. “No. Not that. It’s that he’d never seen his _sister_ naked before. And even that might not have bothered him if he was uninterested. But his pants betrayed him.” She snorted. “No thank you. I like my bed partners to have brains in their heads.”

That made him laugh even more. “Oh this is far too rich,” he chuckled as he started for the shower. “I will never let him forget this day. Ever,” he laughed and then looked to her. “You coming?”

“Not at the moment. I was last night, but I think if we do not want your brother to burst in on us again, we do not have time for it right now.” She smirked as she followed him to the shower.

“You are absolutely brutal today, my little wolf,” he laughed, then reached out to grab her wrist, pulling her into the shower with him. “And we will address whether you are coming or not later this evening in a very posh New York hotel room,” he assured her.

“I’ve never been to New York before,” she said honestly, looking intrigued. “But assuming we find Odin, isn’t he going to want to come right back here?”

“If we find him, Thor can escort him home while we spend one night in New York. Asgard has been without him for months, one night without the two of us shouldn’t bring the world to a halt,” he said as he stepped into the hot water.

She climbed into the shower next to him, closing her eyes and tilting her head back to let the water flow over her hair and face. The heat brought a rosy flush to her snowy skin, and she let out a relaxed groan as it warmed her all the way through. “We had saunas at the village, and natural hot springs we bathed in together,” she said. “But never hot rain from above. This is magnificent.”

He smiled, seeing how such a simple thing gave her joy. He reached to grab some of the scented soaps there and then lathered his hands, running them down her arms, then up her sides and over her hips and stomach, “Hot showers are so relaxing. A pleasure you can indulge in all you want now.”

“I may just choose to live in here when I’m not training,” she chuckled. “I assume you can bed me in here just as well as if we were in an actual bed.” She opened her eyes and they shone a brilliant blue as they looked up at him. She took the soap and began to wash his chest and rock-hard abdomen.

“I could, and it would be enjoyable, but I have to admit that sleeping next to you and feeling your warmth is far more enjoyable than living under the shower,” he laughed, leaning in to kiss her.

She melted into his arms with a little moan, her arms going around his waist to hold on. “It’d be hard to sleep with the water pouring down on me,” she admitted.

“Yes, it would,” he breathed against her lips. “And as much as I would love to have you screaming my name right now, I think we should wait until we are in New York,” he told her, his hands holding her close to him and not letting go.

“Agreed,” she said. Her lips curled up in a grin. “Although if it’s just the ‘screaming your name’ part you want, I could do that without having you buried between my thighs…”

“Oh, I bet you could, and I know I could do it, but if you’re going to be screaming, I want it done the right way.” He smiled. “I promise to make it worth the wait,” he grinned, then stepped back from her. “We’re going to need to have a lady just for washing and styling your hair, I think,” he said as he looked at her.

She made a face. “I’ve been thinking of chopping it all off,” she said. “I kept it on Earth because it kept me warmer in winter, but here…”

“Maybe not all of it? Maybe to the middle of your back?” he offered, “I love how your hair shines in the sun. It looks like a sunset on fire,” he told her, “But I can imagine that it can be difficult, if you would like to cut it, I would be more than happy to let one of the women know.”

“It’s just a pain to keep untangled, mostly,” she said. She reached up for the bottle of shampoo and poured herself a handful, working it into her hair, the thin lather bubbling up and smelling of herbs and fruit. “That’s all.”

“Why don’t you think on it. You don’t have to cut it all off, just make it a bit more manageable,” he said as he watched her, fascinated with her in almost every way possible. “It would help with training and fighting too, if it were a bit shorter.”

She nodded. “As it is, when I braid it, the rope reaches almost to my knees,” she said. “Long enough to tie me up after a fight, if I lost.” She looked up at him, letting the water rinse the shampoo foam from her hair. “That’s not what it’s meant for.”

“I would imagine not,” he smiled as he leaned in to kiss her. “It is your hair, love and your choice on how you want to cut it.” She seemed to like it when he was sweet to her, and it was an easy enough thing to do, a game to play. He only worried he would get caught too deeply in it.

“When we get back is soon enough to make a decision,” she said, having finished rinsing it out, and now pulled it into a thick hank and squeezed as much water out of it as she could. “I’m clean. Getting out and toweling dry so I can dress.”

Loki reached out and turned off the water, then directed her to a linen closet right outside of the shower. “There are large bath sheets in there for you to dry off with. You’ll find them much better than the towels on Midgard,” he told her as he stepped out of the shower first, then moved so she could follow him.

She slipped out behind him, once the shower was off, and hovered in the doorway to the shower to finish squeezing excess water out of her hair, then let the waterlogged rope drop and moved up behind him to spank his cheek, a wicked grin on her face before she reached for a towel.

He laughed and turned to look at her. “You know that comment about tying you up with your own hair is starting to sound like a very good idea.” he said as he reached out to grab her and pull her to him. “A very, very good idea.”

She squawked and blushed, nestling into his arms. “Why would you do such a thing?” she laughed. “That is not part of--oh. Oh!” It didn’t seem possible, but she got even redder.

That made him laugh even more as he held her close, burying his face into her neck and nibbling. “I could tie you and make you beg me even more so than you might normally,” he growled playfully in her ear. “You would enjoy every moment, I promise you.”

“We’re going to be late to meeting Thor,” she said lamely, her voice sounding a bit strangled. Her body trembled in his embrace, gooseflesh rising where his mouth touched her throat. “We were going to behave and not make him wait, remember?” Her closed her eyes and reveled in the heat of his kiss against her flesh.

“Yes, I remember, this is just to remind you of what you’ll be doing this evening,” he told her before giving her a gentle nip at her neck. “Now get dressed before I lose what little control I have left,” he said as he gave her backside a return smack.

“You are quickly becoming an addiction,” she murmured, toweling dry. “I don’t know if that’s good or not.” She frowned. “What am I going to wear? If we go to New York, all the clothes I have are certainly going to stand out. My armor? At least that won’t be seen as strange, next to my brother, although you…” She paused. “As I said, we had a radio and a computer. I heard of the Battle of New York.” She didn’t bother asking about his motives for his part in it; the expression on her face said she didn’t even care. “They will recognize you there, will they not?”

“Not at all. I do not have to appear in my armor and even if I did, most of them would pay little or no attention to me. Dress in something comfortable. I will use magic when we arrive until you can go purchase something better suited.”

“The armor is comfortable enough,” she said. “Although I do not believe I will be going shopping. For that, I would have to have money.” She stepped out into the bedroom, wrapped in a towel, and saw that, sometime while they slept, Oda or the other servants had moved her small number of belongings, including her weapons, into Loki’s chambers. “Well, this is convenient, at least.” She unwrapped the towel and went about getting dressed in her armor.

“I have money, American and European on Midgard,” he told her, “and as to this, I figured you would want your things close to you,” he said as he wound a robe around himself. “I thought you seemed happy to share a room with me. Did I mistake your desires?” he asked her.

She blinked. “Oh, no!” she insisted. “That was meant sincerely. I was not looking forward to having to sneak down the hall in a towel to get my things. I enjoy sharing a bed, and these quarters, with you.” She smiled contentedly. “My desires are to be right here, with you.”

“Good, because I want you right here too. I loved having you in my arms this morning and having breakfast with you. And even more so watching Thor turn a deeper shade of red than his cloak,” he laughed as he began to get dressed.

“Some day, you will have to tell me why you love to torment him so,” she said genially, finishing getting her armor on. There was an amused look on her face. “I am sure there’s a story there, and I’m sure your poking and prodding is justified. I just don’t know the details.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “He strikes me as extremely impulsive, and not given to deep thought. That can cause some immense problems, I would think. I dread to think how badly mere mortals could get hurt if he misunderstood a situation.”

“Oh you have no idea,” he muttered. “He is a bit better since he was banished by our father and he became an Avenger...for Midgard. He seems to be more impulsive here on Asgard than on Midgard. But one day I will tell you our…difficult past,” he told her.

She nodded. “Now, I just need to get my hair straightened out and I’m ready to go.” She paused. “Should I bring my blades? Or will we not need them? Never mind, what am I saying? I took an oath to defend you. If they recognize you, I will need them.”

He reached over to take her hand. “No, you will not need them. With Thor there we won’t need weapons. We are going to find Odin and then you and I will stay for a night, then return in the next day,” he told her. “No one will pay a second glance to us, I assure you.”

“I’m at least taking a dagger,” she said, and retrieved it, tucking it in her boot. “Most people I can handle with my bare hands, if need be.”

“Yes, that is a good idea, but anything bigger would stand out, unless there was a convention nearby,” he told her. “I do enjoy dressing up and going to those, pretending to be myself, so much fun,” he told her.

“Convention?” she asked, looking confused.

“Fans of movies and comic books and television shows gather and dress as their favorite characters. There are people who dress as me, as I looked when I attacked New York, and then there are others who dress as Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, Thor, various others,” he told her. “I have gone there and pretended to be in costume just walking among them, to see what they knew. Most know very little but there were a few who I felt knew me very well.”

She still looked baffled. “Okay,” she said at last. “Very strange way to pass the time, but if it makes them happy…” She shook her head. “Are these things free?”

“Not usually, it’s a nominal fee.” he told her. “I mean, to Midgardians, it might be expensive, but that is not something I have to worry about,” he said as he walked over and finished getting dressed. “Maybe we will visit one? You would enjoy yourself.”

“Maybe?” she said, sounding dubious. “I find an ocean’s expanse of difference between actual warriors and those who dress up like them and pretend to be one. Besides, you go as yourself, but I am not in the movies and such you mention. Who would I go as? They would not know me.”

“Oh, you could go as...my guard, or my wife. Who says you have to be a character that they have a model for? You could be my personal protector, and we could make you an amazing armor to wear that would stun them into gaping mouths,” he told her. “Or the Princess Leia slave outfit that woman seem to enjoy wearing. It’s from the movie 'Star Wars',” he told her.

A flicker of annoyance ran through her eyes. “I’ve never seen any movies, much less that one, and I’m not a slave,” she said, trying to pull the brush through her tangled locks. Numerous wet strands were firmly wound around the bristles, resisting her tugging, and she winced. “Damn this hair.”

He walked over and laid his hands over hers. “May I?” he asked as he took the brush from her. He started at the bottom of her hair, working out the tangles from the bottom toward her scalp. “It’s much easier for me to see what I am doing. And before you protest, I like doing it. Now shush.”

She went still to accommodate him, slitting her eyes in pleasure at the feelings of his hands on her hair, letting him work his magic with the brush. “You’re good at that,” she whispered quietly.

“When I was a boy. I always liked to brush my mother’s hair. Thor would tease me about it. but my mother would tell me it was thoughtful. and that when I married. my wife would find it relaxing and would appreciate the attention,” his voice was a bit softer, not quite as playful.”I would tell her I would not have time for a wife, girls were icky,” he laughed.

She smiled at that. “'Icky', huh?” she quipped. “I shall keep that in mind. Do you still find women ‘icky’?”

“Oh no, not icky now. I was a child, maybe 8 or 9?” he said as he twisted her hair into style of braid that he knew would hold well, “You’re not a girl, you are a woman, and a warrior as well.”

“There is that,” she allowed. “Not a magus, like you, though.”

“No, but I am not a warrior like you. I have to rely on magic, you can rely on your training and your skills. I am not helpless by any means, but I do prefer to fight with my mind,” he told her as he secured the plait. “There you are, your hair should be a bit more manageable on Midgard now.”

“Thank you,” she said, and turned toward him. “We should get going,” she sighed.

He smiled and kissed her. “Yes, we should. You get to spend quality time with your older brother and I get to annoy him.”

“I confess it’s amusing to watch,” she said, shaking her head but smiling.

“Oh, just you wait,” he said as he pulled her close. “He’s going to hate that I am kissing you and that we’re enjoying ourselves,” he laughed. “But in all seriousness, we should get moving,” he said as he took her hand and they headed down out of his room.

The servants in the main room were clearing away the debris from breakfast as they entered. Thor sat in one of the chairs, a sullen look on his face, the hammer on the floor by his feet. “Ah,” he said as they came forward. “There you are. I was about done with waiting.”

“Oh I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware we were on Thor time today,” Loki said as he looked at Thor. “I should change my schedule over, eh?” he asked with a smirk.

“Enough, brother!” Thor growled, getting to his feet and picking up his hammer. “I would have preferred to be gone an hour ago.” His gaze flicked to Signy and his face reddened. “Are you both ready?”

“Oh shut up,” Loki snapped. “And yes, we are ready,” he said, shaking his head. Thor had the patience of a two year old child, and it irked him.

Signy cast a look at Loki, frowning, and then at Thor, even more so. An expression of unease settled over her features as she waited at Loki’s side.

Loki took her hand, then looked at Thor. “Apologies, brother. Let’s get to the Bifrost so we can find the All Father and get him home.” He looked at Signy, lifting her hand to his lips to kiss it.

Thor nodded, glancing back and forth from one to the other, then marched for the exit that led out of the dining hall toward the Bifrost and the chamber where Heimdall waited. Signy held Loki’s hand as he followed his bigger brother. “Thank you,” she said simply. A ripple of tension shivered through her body as they walked. She had spoken the night before of her anxiety about how Odin would regard her, and that the anxiety was still present was evident in the tension running through her.

Loki looked over at her, “What troubles you?” he asked her quietly as they walked. “You’re not as relaxed as you were moments ago.”

“You and he have been looking for Odin for...what, months?” she asked.

“Yes, but we weren’t looking on Midgard. We were checking the different realms, but never thought Midgard a possibility. Simply because Odin never seemed to really be overly fond of Midgard. He went through phases, from what Frigga told me, but for many years he looked down…” He paused as he turned to look at her. “I wonder if it was because of your mother? What did she tell you of Odin?” he asked.

“Not much,” she said quietly. “She was American originally, brought up in a…’doomsday prepper’ group. Expecting the end of the world. She didn’t say much about why she started revering the Norse gods, or why she moved from America to join the group in Norway. But she once mentioned something, when she’d had more to drink than usual at dinner, and mentioned something about...a man. That hurt her.” Her expression tightened. “I looked through her things after she passed out. There was an old newspaper clipping. About her. One of the men in the original group she was in had...assaulted her, intimately. So bad that the doctors told her she would never be able to have children. She was never able to trust a human man again, but....she wanted a child. So she prayed to Odin. And he came.”

Loki thought for a moment. “Thor, do you ever remember father actually listening to the humans? I mean, I have from time to time, but I was never compelled by any of them, not enough to go to Midgard and grant their prayers. Have you ever heard of such a thing?” he asked Thor as they approached the Bifrost entry.

“Upon occasion,” Thor said. “There are so few left on Midgard who still saw us as gods. Most saw us only as old stories, fairy tales for children. But there were a few believers, and rarely, for the very most devout, he would visit Midgard and give them what they asked for, if it was within his power.”

‘I didn’t know that,” Loki said quietly. He looked over at Signy. “Your mother must have given a prayer the likes of which he’d never heard,” he said with a smile. “You were so very wanted, and very special,” he said to her.

She smiled faintly. “And then she never knew what to make of me,” she admitted. “I think she expected someone she could dress up in little gowns and who would play with dolls and make cookies. Instead I killed a fox that crept into the house when I was three. It was rabid. I killed it before it could bite either of us, with my mother’s butcher knife. That’s when I was started on weapons training. I wasn’t her little girl, not like she expected. But I was who I was.”

Loki stopped and turned to her. “She loved you and I can assure you, she must have been very proud of you. How could a gift from Odin not be everything she wanted? She had you, and she knew you were a gift. I cannot imagine that she was anything but proud,” he told her, then looked at Thor.

Thor nodded. “Truth, sister,” he said solemnly, as Heimdall turned to listen. “I have been listening all morning to the tales of the servants. Your prowess as a fighter. Your training with Tyr and Sif. That you slew three frost giants on your own to protect a group of mortal children.” He smiled. “Loki is right, this time. I think your mother must have loved you very much.”

“I have no doubt of that,” Signy said mildly. “She told me so, every day. I regret that I could do nothing to help her when her end came. But I was glad I could make her happy while she lived.”

“Well, never doubt that even if you weren’t the princess that she might have dreamed of, the Valkyrie she got was still a miracle to her. You said she told you every day, so I think you shouldn’t doubt how special you are and were to her,” Loki said, then glanced over at Heimdall. “We’re going to attempt to retrieve Odin,” he told him.

Heimdall nodded. “I have searched for him all this time, in all the nine realms, and have never yet been able to set my eyes on him,” he said gravely. “Where am I sending you?”

“Midgard,” Thor said. “In the country of America, the state known as New York, the city also known as New York. The borough called Manhattan, near Stark Tower.”

Heimdall’s gaze flicked toward Loki. “The last site of the battle that took place there, years ago,” he said. “Very well. Step forward.”

Loki looked to Heimdall, “Thank you. Once Thor has Odin, you can bring them back. I intend to stay overnight with Signy in New York, then we will be back,” he told him, then looked at Thor. “Your sister has never seen a city such as New York,” he told him.

Thor frowned, but nodded. “You had best watch yourself while you’re there, then, brother,” he warned. “They know your face in New York. I would not want the mortals’ rage at you to imperil my sister.”

“I knew I should have brought my swords,” Signy muttered.

“Thor, you know better than most that the mortals are so caught up in their cellphones and their headphones they barely notice who walks past them. But if you are so worried about it, I can change my appearance,” Loki told them.

“I would not choose to change so much as one hair on your head,” Signy said plainly. “I would just not want our visit to be spoiled by violence.”

“Well, it is something I can do if for some reason we feel there is reason that I should hide,” he told her, “I doubt they will even raise a brow in my direction.”

“Let’s hope not,” she said.

Thor looked to Heimdall. “We are ready,” he said. “Put us down somewhere we won’t be much noticed.”

“It is night-time there,” Heimdall said. “I shall endeavour to keep your arrival discreet.”

Loki nodded in thank you to Heimdall and then took Signy’s hand in his own. “Trust me, night time in New York, no one will look twice at us,” he assured her and then they were gone.

They materialized in a darkened stand of trees in Central Park, not too far from Avengers’ Tower. Signy looked around, spotted the lit tower, and nodded. “Yes, that’s the building I saw in my vision,” she said. “But we’re on the wrong side.” She pointed off to the east. “It was more in that direction. Maybe...a mile, at most.”

“We will get there,” Loki assured her. He looked from her to Thor and then gave a wave of his hand with another gesture with his fingers. The three of them were then dressed in far more suitable Midgardian clothing than before. “This will do until we can grab more appropriate attire. Thor, you still have a room at the tower, yes?”

“I do, brother, but you know that the others would not welcome you there,” Thor said cautiously. “Not however much I tried to explain.”

“I can sleep here in this wooded place, if I need to,” Signy said. “I have many times before in my own land, while hunting at night. In a place so tame as this, I doubt there are bears or wolves or beasts powerful enough to overcome me, even though I bear only a dagger with me, and as for men…” She smiled thinly. “Only two have ever done that.”

Loki laughed. “I think we do not need to sleep in the trees here. Thor has his own quarters in the tower you saw in your visions and I have my own hideaway here that I come to when I want to…just get away from Asgard.” he said then looked at Thor. “And don’t act so surprised, you used to do it when we were younger.”

“I am not surprised that you know I used to do such,” Thor said. “I am only surprised, brother, that for someone who has spoken so fiercely of how much he loathes mortals, you would come to dwell among them when you once wished to rule the place you now seek to get away from.”

“People change, and there were times that I came here, before I tried to take control, and after. It’s very easy for me to change my appearance. And I never said I loathed mortals, I said I loathed the fact that they cared more for money and wealth than endeavors of the mind, or to learn and gain knowledge,” he reminded him. “But I remember you didn’t feel that was a worthwhile way to “waste time,” as you described it,” Loki said as he glanced over at Signy. “You would probably agree with him. You would spend your time training, honing your skills, am I correct?”

She shrugged. “It is who I am,” she said without any pride or bragging whatsoever. “It is what I know. It is all I am good for.”

Loki stopped and turned to look at her. “No, it is not all you are good for and I will not have you sell yourself short. You are a wonderful woman,” he told her, frowning. “You are a protector and a warrior; don’t make it seem so insignificant.”

“Loki, I don’t say that to belittle myself. I’m pleased that I’m skilled in battle. But I know those talents aren’t thought much of in this part of the mortal world. In most parts, actually. I was a protector, but I am not at my village any longer. My task now is protecting you.”

“It’s protecting Asgard and me,” he grinned, then slid an arm around her waist. “I just don’t want you to think it’s all you are good for. There is far more to you than just your fighting skill.”

Thor glowered. “That is my sister you are insulti--”

“Don’t,” Signy said abruptly. “Whatever I am doing with him, wherever I do it, I do of my own free will, and if I did not want to be where I was, I would tell him so.”

Loki’s eyes widened just a bit as he glanced to Signy, then to Thor. “I don’t know where you got the idea that I was insulting her,” Loki said as he glanced between the two. He secretly reveled in the fact that Thor was so clearly offended by the fact that Loki was bedding Signy. “But I was merely saying that she is more than her fighting skill. She is most intelligent, and I have enjoyed the conversations that she engages me in.”

Thor grimaced, but spotted the angry expression on Signy’s face, rapidly growing more dire by the moment, and suppressed whatever he was about to say. “Fine,” he ground out. “This way.”

“Nah-ah, man, you an’ that fine-ass bitch just stay where you are.” The voice was shrill and mocking as a young man slid out of the bushes lining the sidewalk, a knife in his hands. “Y’all look like you got plentya green, so hand it over.”

Loki looked at the man, then to Signy and Thor, then to the young man and began to laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

The man snarled. “I will cut those eyes out of your face, you ig’nant fu--” He blinked as Thor took a step forward, raising the hammer. “Ohshit. Man, I’m sorry, I din’t know it was you, I’m outtie.”

Signy snorted, even as he began to back up. “A thief _and_ a coward. Not even a brave thief, but a craven one,” she said, shaking her head in disgust.

The insult short-circuited the man’s common sense. “Cunt, you talk like that to me, I’m finna make that face not so pretty anymore.” He held up the knife, his eyes on Signy now.

Loki felt unexpected rage flare in him, but then he saw Signy’s face change. It went from disgust to anger and then a hard, determined look, and Loki immediately took a step back from her. He had a good idea that she was about to show the young man that he had definitely made a bad choice of who to try and rob.

“I bet you’ve robbed plenty of people before,” she said silkily.

“Plenty as hell, bitch,” he snarled, swiping at her with the knife. She dodged it effortlessly.

“Raped a few women?” she murmured.

“Too many to count,” he sneered.

“Even killed some?” she prodded.

“Just the ones who’as too stupid to gimme what I wanted.”

“That’s all I wanted to know,” she said. She moved forward with the speed of a striking cobra, dodging the blade again without even seeming to try, and leapt behind him, wrapping one arm around his neck, grabbing that arm’s wrist with her other hand, and locking him into a chokehold that ended with a snapping sound. She dropped the dead body to the ground with a sigh.

“The hotel?” she prompted.

Loki watched her with admiration and amusement. When she snapped the man’s neck, he laughed out loud, shaking his head. “You would think after seeing Thor, he would have run the other way, but no, he has to think he can outmatch you. He deserved a far less swift death,” he looked at the body, then spit on him. “Good riddance to that rubbish.” He looked over at Thor, then stepped up to Signy, offering her his hand once more. “The hotel is just around the corner and the tower, not too far from there."


	9. The Monster at Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One quiet interlude before things go to hell.

They strolled into the hotel Loki had chosen, with him and Thor in the lead and Signy following behind. The woman at the front desk perked up as soon as she saw them all.

“And how may I assist you today, gentlemen and lady?” she asked.

“Hello, Susan. I believe you have reservations for Lucian Lawson?” Loki asked her, stepping to the counter, flashing her a brilliant smile. “I believe it was taken care of last evening,” he commented. He looked over at Thor and Signy. “There should be two suites,” he added, knowing it was ready and waiting.

The woman checked the computer. “Yes, Mr. Lawson,” she said. “We have the arrangements already made. You’re paid already.” She reached down into a little cubby and drew out three small envelopes with plastic cards in them. “Your key-cards are here. The full amenities of the hotel are available to you at any time, sir.”

He took the envelopes and tapped them on the counter. “Excellent, as always,” he said, “Could you have room service send up the meals that I had requested? I am sure everyone could use a good meal after our travel time,” he said then looked over at Thor. “I ordered your favorite--Bacon Cheeseburgers, with extra fries.” 

Thor grinned broadly. “Ahhh, brother! You remembered! The food at home is wonderful, but I confess I do love many of the different things they have here.” He looked at Signy. “Have you had pizza?”

She shook her head. “I’ve heard of it, but...we didn’t eat a lot that wasn’t whale meat, seal meat, fish, or root vegetables,” she told him. He looked horrified.

As did Loki. “Oh, well then, my dear, we might have to add another day to our trip. I have to take you to have pizza, burgers and fries, and ice cream. I love ice cream, one of the greatest things that humankind has created,” he said as they walked toward the elevator.

She looked amused. “I’ve never had ‘ice cream’, but I’ve had enough of ice. As for cream, our village had a couple goats,” she said. “But I expect it’s not the same thing at all. So you propose to spend all of the two days just eating after we find our father?”

“No, I plan to take you shopping, and to several places to eat and then we would spend more time just enjoying the city before we have to return. I think that when we find father that Thor and the others are more than capable of handling anything that might come in just a few days,” he told her. 

She nodded patiently. “Very well, then, I am at your mercy,” she said, offering up a bit of a grin. “To a point.”

He smiled at her and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him as they stepped into the elevator. “I promise you that there will be no need to worry about me during this trip. I plan to try and behave like a gentleman for at least a few hours,” he teased her back.

“Gentlemen bed wenches too, Loki,” Signy giggled. Thor turned bright red and sulked his way to the back of the elevator, glaring at the two of them. “I hope you’re not that much of a gentleman, that you won’t.”

“Must I be forced to listen to this?” Thor growled.

“Since when did you become such an old maid when there is talk of sex? You never hesitated to let me know of your sexual conquests and endeavors,” Loki pointed out. “Or does it bother you that Signy is your half sister and you aren’t entirely comfortable knowing that we’re spending our time enjoying each other?”

“Or is it that you’re interested yourself and it makes you very uncomfortable because, unlike I and Loki, you and I are blood-related?” Signy asked bluntly.

Thor turned scarlet, his fist clenching around the handle of his hammer tightly. At that moment, the elevator opened at their floor. Thor charged out of the elevator and off down the hall.

Loki looked at Signy, then chuckled, “Well that is not how I expected that to go,” he admitted to her. “Although I had thought it, I didn’t want to upset you and just blurt that out.” He took the key card and slid it in and out of the lock. When the light became green, he pushed the door open and walked in, turning on the light and waiting for her to enter the room.

“He’s kind of obvious about it, unfortunately,” she said, stepping inside after him. “And frankly, I have no interest in him that way. He is not...how do you say it, my ‘type’?”

Loki let the door close behind her. “I would think not. You need more than a pretty face to keep your interest. While he may be a warrior and easy on the eyes, he does not always have the ability for lengthy intelligent conversations,” he said as he took her hands, pulling her close to him as he then glanced around the room. “What do you think?”

She took in the enormous bed, the flat-screen TV on the wall, the dinner table with its centerpiece of white roses and lilies, the floor-to-ceiling drapes on the windows that looked out on the city’s night skyline, glittering with lights; she walked over to the door into the bathroom and viewed the deep whirlpool tub and amenities. “Not quite so palatial as Asgard, but still finer than all I had growing up,” she said. “You know, Loki, you do not have to...woo me in this manner, right? I’m yours already.”

“This isn’t wooing you, this is me showing you things that you’ve never had the chance to experience. I don’t need to show off, or prove anything to you. I do this because I simply want to. Is that wrong of me? To want to share things that I enjoy with you?” Under normal circumstances, such words would never have emerged from his mouth--but this was anything but normal, and he found it amusing to fall for such facile lies.

“No, there's nothing wrong with it,” Signy said. “I just wasn't expecting anything like this. It'd be wrong to expect it. I am entitled to nothing, and I don't have any claim on such.” She looked around and smiled. “Thank you for wanting to share this with me. It's kind of you.”

Kind! He wanted to laugh. “Well, you are most welcome. I find that I like nice things, and I love that the people of New York always want sleek and stylish. Everything is done to show off instead of for comfort. Have you noticed that? This place, though, this is comfort and style,” he told her.

“It looks stylish. Haven’t tried anything out yet, so I can’t judge as to the comfort. We’re staying in for the night, then?” she asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed to remove her boots. 

“Yes, we will. I have food on its way up as well as ice cream for dessert,” he told her. 

"Is there a reason we're not out looking for Odin this very moment?" she asked, her tone mild.

Ah, not so slow as she sometimes appears... "This city is vast, my dear. The largest on Earth. And it is night. Even the general whereabouts of where to find him, I am certain there are many, many places where he might be bedded down for the night. It is better to search during the day. We have a better chance of finding him, then."

She nodded. "I see," she said at last. "I just wondered. I am used to hunting at night, and my night vision is quite good. But I defer to your wisdom on this matter; you have known him much longer than I." She shrugged. "Now what?"

“I thought you might want to go out on the balcony and look over Central Park. It’s so strange to think such a large park is in the middle of one of the largest cities in the world.”

She nodded. “And a park is...tame wilderness, my mother said?” she asked. “Sometimes with toys and rides?”

He nodded. “Some, yes. There are others called amusement parks that have large rides, that people ride to be thrilled, and then there are parks that just have children’s toys like swings and other items that children like.” he told her. “Then there is Central Park, the park outside our hotel, which is a little bit of all of it,” he said as he walked over to stand in front of her. “Would you like to open the doors to the outside?” he asked of the balcony doors.

She nodded, stepping to the doors and pushing them open, out onto the balcony, and then stopped. “The view is lovely,” she said. They were up over a dozen stories.

He stepped up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. “It’s beautiful. Dirty, but beautiful. I think that is what bothers me most about Midgard. Humans don’t care for the planet they live on. To them it’s disposable. Dirty air and water, the streets are filthy and they waste so much,” he lamented. “I’m sure you understand that better than I since your village was“off the grid,” as they call it.”

“Heh, we didn’t even have streets. Just the houses, clustered together, and some footpaths. We had one well, and we burned what combustible trash we had, re-used most metal scrap, buried the rest. Probably not ideal. We did switch over from firewood to solar panels for heat, though, about four years back, because otherwise there wasn’t going to be any forest left around for us to hunt in. We cooked with wood still, mostly, although there were a couple people who had tanks of natural gas.” She looked out at the millions of city lights in all colors. “People are wasteful.”

“Yes, they are. But so are Asgardians, at times. We waste what we think is plentiful. I think that is just the nature of our kind,” he slid his hands down her arms, then around her waist, “Human, Asgardian, Xandarian, Elf, we are all similar in more ways than we are different.” 

She leaned back against him, resting her arms atop hers where they wrapped around her waist. “I can’t do anything to change that, I’m afraid, I...wait. Xandarian?” she asked, arching a brow and tilting her head back and to the side to look at him.

“Another planet outside your solar system here. This galaxy is not overly large, but it’s not small, either. Asgard is in another realm, or galaxy, if you will. It’s a large universe,” he told her. “You know the story of Yggdrasil, yes?” he asked as he kissed her neck, enjoying how she felt in his arms.

She nodded. “The tree that connects the nine realms,” she said. “Obviously, Earth is Midgard...but if the other realms are all other dimensions, then everything in this dimension is Midgard. This solar system, the galaxy, everything beyond it.”

“Exactly. Earth is referred to as Midgard, but there are other inhabited planets in your galaxy,” he told her. “But the tree is most definitely the basis of the universe.” He looked upward toward the heavens. “The stars are so hard to see with the lights of the city drowning them out,” he commented. 

She chuckled softly. “If you wanted to look at the stars, we should go somewhere where there isn’t so much artificial light. The countryside is best for that. I learned to find my way by the stars as a kid.” She pointed. “Big dipper, little dipper, Cassiopeia, Draco, the Pleiades...all the constellations.”

“Maybe after we have returned Odin to Asgard and things are more settled, we can come back and go to the mountains,” he suggested. Sometimes he listened to himself spinning futures for her--for the two of them--that were never going to happen and was alternately amused and appalled by his inventiveness. “There is definitely something to be said for the views of the stars on Earth, and how easily you can follow them. It is much harder on Asgard because of the various moons that circle it.”

“I like the mountains,” she admitted. “We were near the foothills of Halti back home, right on the border between Norway and Finland.” She grinned. “The mountains of Jotunheim were further to the south.”

“Ahh yes, the mountains named for my birthplace,” he said as he looked at her. “And I love the mountains as well. Maybe we can visit the Colorado Rockies here in the United States sometime.” he kissed at her neck once more, then his lips traveled along her jawline and back up before he gave her a gentle nip on her neck.

She shivered at the feel of his mouth against her throat. “Are you thinking of breaking in that big bed?” she teased him. 

“Oh absolutely. My biggest decision that I have to make is do I want to do it before dinner, or after?” he said near her ear, his lips sliding around the shell.

“Why not both?” she laughed, her back against his chest, sliding her hands down to cup the front of his thighs, pressing her backside against his hips. She could feel the strength of his arousal and smiled.

“Ooohh, I do like the way that you think,” he said as he nibbled at her neck, his hands sliding down to pull her to him, letting her feel even more what she was doing to him. “Mmmm, you are delicious.”

She shivered. “I love the way you make me feel more than I love my sword,” she muttered hungrily, stretching tautly in his arms, one hand sliding down between his legs to cup his arousal.

That drew a shuddering breath from him before he nipped at her neck again. He pushed her hand away from him and grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. Both hands went to her cheeks and his mouth came down over hers in a kiss built of hunger and need.

Her own passion fed into the kiss and she wrapped her arms around him, down around his waist, her hands finding the curves of his backside and pulling him against her, her need insatiable. She nipped at his tongue as he explored her mouth, wishing she had more hands so she could undress the both of them at the same time. “So good,” she muttered into his mouth, feeling his warmth surround her. He made her feel safe, unassailable, even though his brother was physically much bigger.

“Very good,” he whispered against her lips before his hands moved down to her bottom, grabbing and lifting her upward, smiling as she wound her legs around him. He leaned in to kiss her again as he carried her toward the bed, the balcony doors left open for the cool air to blow in.

As soon as he laid her down, she began to undo the fastenings to his pants, sitting up to tug them down over his hips. Her hands moved with deftness, and then she got to her feet to tug his shirt off over his head. “I love seeing you naked,” she said simply. “You’re so beautiful.”

He laughed. He’d never had a woman so willing to be free with him and take pleasure in undressing him like she did. “Beautiful? Shouldn’t that be rugged or sexy?” he teased as he let her take off his shirt, then shoved her onto the bed. “My turn,” he said, before starting to undress her as well.

“Rugged? No, Thor is rugged, and I don’t find it appealing. Sexy? Definitely. You have the beauty of a sword blade, sharp and slim and sleek and deadly. You are the perfect man, as witty and charming and intelligent and talented as you are beautiful. Beautiful like a venomous serpent, or a tiger.” She let him undress her, that smile still on her face. “I would not change your beauty for all the gold in Asgard, and all the diamonds and rubies, too.”

“Then if you feel that way when you look at me, then you can understand that I think the same of you. Your mind, your beauty, your skills, all of them make me wonder why the universe gave me such a wonderful gift when my past deeds are less than exemplary,” he said as he tossed her clothes aside, sliding his hands up her now bare legs. “You are a treasure, to be worshiped,” he said as he kissed right below her knee. “You are delicate like the rose and yet as hard as diamonds.” He kissed above her knee then, looking up at her.

“Hard as diamonds, I’ll accept that compliment,” she said with a smile, easing her legs open for him. “But I don’t think there’s much about me that’s delicate. Sorry.”

“Yes, there is,” he said as he crawled onto the bed, kissing the inside of her thigh. “Your skin is as soft as the rose petals. Your hair, silky like satin,” he told her as he kissed the inside of the opposite thigh, then her navel, and then the curve of each hipbone.

She moaned, reaching down to bury her hands in the sheets, hands curling into fists around the material. “Gods, your mouth…” the rest of the sentence disintegrated into garbled syllables that meant nothing in any language. Her head tilted back against the mattress, her fiery hair fanning around her head and shoulders like a halo of flame, her pale flesh like ivory against the black satin coverlet.

He kissed along her hips, then lower, spreading her legs apart just a bit more before he licked along her seam, then used his hands to spread her open to him, his tongue starting on her button with slow circles at first.

Her breathing went erratic, deep and swift breaths, then concentrated, long, slow ones, trying to slow the sensations inside her. She stretched out her legs, toes tightly pointed, then drew them up again, bending her knees, bracketing him on either side. A flush ran through her creamy flesh at his ministrations. Little gasps and moans broke from her lips as she trembled underneath him.

He was in no hurry at all and he took his time. His tongue licked and flicked at her nub, then sucking on it. His mouth covered her, this time letting his tongue move down to circle her entrance, then lapped at her slit before going back to focus on her pearl once more.

“Can’t...hold much...longer,” she groaned, writhing in his grasp, her hands sliding down her body to tangle in his hair, the sleek, silky ebony strands slithering between her fingers. Her whole body shook as the need in her gut coiled more and more tightly toward release.

He didn’t let up, didn’t stop as he felt her shaking, her legs trembling and her hands gripping and releasing his hair. He wanted to feel and hear her come apart under him. He licked and then sucked at that bundle of nerves. With his thumbs, he pulled the skin just a little tightly so that his tongue would drive her over the edge.

She let out a howl as that tiny thing pushed her over the precipice, somehow managing not to rip his hair out by the roots in her frenzies. Her hips bucked up and down under his mouth as she soared, wailing in bliss, her whole body shaking as if she sat in the car of a roller coaster. Her heels drummed against the mattress, thin whimpers escaping her lips as she rode the wave as long as she could.

He slowed his attentions, but didn’t stop them entirely. He didn’t want to leave her wanting more, but he knew too fast still or too much would be uncomfortable. He slowed until her shaking and cries were now whimpers. He lifted his head, looking at her with a grin as he climbed up over her body. “Mmmm… I love hearing that,” he told her. That much, at least, was truth; one small truth in a forest of lies. There was no disgust or reluctance in what he did with her between the sheets.

“Oh, gods,” she moaned, collapsing back onto the mattress, boneless as a wet sock. “Look what you do to me.” Her face was flushed, her hair tangled, her nipples drawn taut as diamonds, and as hard. The scent of her rapture filled the room, hanging heavy and warm in the air. 

“I love seeing what I do to you, and we are just getting started,” he told her as he nudged himself between her legs, then slid home, burying himself inside of her as deep as he could go, holding there as he watched the pleasure that blossomed over her face.

“Ssssoooo--” she gasped, swallowed air, moaned. “So good.” Her arms went round him, and she drew him down to her for a moment for a sweet embrace, savoring his strength and his warmth and his affection. “I could stay like this forever.”

He smiled as her arms wrapped around him and he touched his nose to hers, “While this is wonderful, I would think this--” he rolled his hips, sliding in and out of her in a slow, deliberate display of his control of his hips,.“You might find so much more enjoyable,” he finished, repeating the action once more. She was hot and tight around him. He wondered how he could continue to keep up the slow pace with how good she felt.

Her breath shuddered out of her lungs in a surprisingly needy sound, and she arched up into him, her hands moving to his hips to hold him deep inside her for a moment, then eased up on the firmness of her grasp. “All of it,” she choked out, every nerve overheated, every inch of flesh tingling with the sensations he was invoking. "I want all of you." She caught one of his hands and moved it to one of her breasts, whimpering.

His hand cupped her breast, massaging it before he caught the taut point between his thumb and forefinger, tugging at it as he held his weight on his opposite arm. He thrust into her hard and withdrew slowly, only to thrust again, as far as he could go. His eyes closed as he felt her moving to meet his movements and he found a steady pace, not too fast and not too slow.

She groaned, writhing slowly, watching him. “You showed me that thing with your mouth,” she murmured, slowly, haltingly. “Are there other things, other ways we could try? Other...I don’t know, ways of moving? Um...positions? I want to try everything with you. Everything.” She caught his hand again and brought it up to her mouth, licking his fingertips, then taking his index finger into her mouth, suckling it as if it was his other flesh.

He groaned at her mouth on his finger, it reminded him too well of what he knew she could do with her mouth. Her question made him smile and he nodded, kissing her gently at the corner of her mouth. “So many ways,” he said, then without warning, he rolled them, so that she was on top of him. He looked at her and smiled. “I think you can figure out how this one works,” he teased her, reaching up to wrap both hands around her breasts, thumbs sliding over her nipples, teasing them.

The sudden change in position made her gasp with surprised delight. Her own body weight pushed her down atop his flesh, driving it even deeper into her from a better angle. She moved her hips experimentally and groaned as the silky thatch at his groin rasped against her bud. She planted her hands against his chest, sliding her fingers over his skin, and then began to rock back and forward, riding him like a horse.

He grunted with her movement, her hands drawing goosebumps from how and where she touched him. When she began to move, his hands went to her hips, gripping her tightly as he began to align his hips with hers so that their movements were matched in a slow, erotic dance. His hips lifted as she rocked toward him, giving him more depth with each of her movements.

“You are exquisite,” he gasped, looking to watch as her breasts ached for his hands and he lifted one hand to tug at her nipple again. He managed to hide the look on his face as she surprised that admission from him. What was it about her that made him want to tell the truth?

The sensations were instantly overpowering again, nearly driving her to peak. “Won’t...last long,” she gasped, her thighs quivering, managing not to dig her claws into his chest. Her hair rippled down over her shoulders and back in a cloak of silken fire, falling all the way past her hips to pool atop his thighs and between them.

He released her nipple, grabbed her hips and then began to thrust upward into her, faster than before, even while she moved atop him. He could feel her trembling, hear her breath as she held it and he didn’t relent. He would only slow after he heard her cry out in ecstasy. "Mine," he growled, his tone primal, unyielding.

The tightness of his hands on her hips--tight enough that she might have bruises later--did something inside her, hit some previously unstimulated nerve or part of her brain, and she let out a sharp cry of bliss and went rigid atop him, fireworks going off inside her brain, suddenly gushing. Her inner tunnel clamped down on him with the strength of a fist, milking him fiercely, the rhythmic contractions holding her pinioned atop him as waves of ecstasy ripped through her body.

He was not expecting anything as intense and it made him arch off the bed. Her sheath was like a vice and the waves constricted then released him in spurts. Even as he grunted, he thrust into her several more times and then exploded inside of her. It wasn’t quite a shout, but was far more vocal than a grunt. He could feel his shaft twitching as her body continued to spasm around him.

At last, her body’s quakes began to subside, and she dropped like a puppet with cut strings, collapsing onto his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. “Dear gods,” she murmured. “That was…” She shuddered. “I look forward to you teaching me more. Everything.”

“Oh, I will teach you anything your heart desires,” he said between breaths as he tried to return his breathing to normal. His hand slid up and down her back slowly, enjoying the silky softness of her skin under his fingers. He moved his head so he could kiss her forehead. “You are amazing, my little wolf,” he told her.

“I would say I was a fool for having no interest in this before,” she admitted, “but I know full well there were no men in my village who could make me feel like you do. Olaf would have managed two pumps and exploded and instantly fallen asleep.” She giggled.

He chuckled loudly at that. “I am surprised you think he would last two pumps. He seemed the type who might just get to seeing you naked and go right then,” he laughed softly, then dragged his fingers up her back. “I had no intention of finding a new lover, but the moment I was with you, and spoke to you, all of that changed. I still wonder if you’ve bespelled me,” he teased her playfully.

She laughed. “There’s no magic in me. I’m no witch,” she said. “I have visions. That’s as close as it gets.”

“You won me over, that has to count as some type of magic,” he laughed, as he rolled her over so she was under him. He kept his weight off of her and gazed down at her. “Our food should be here any moment,” he said before kissing her, then moving to get out of the bed.

She drew the covers up over her, heedless of the wetness of his spilled seed between her thighs, and drew up the pillows behind her into a stack, sitting up in bed. “I suppose I should put clothes on, then. Where I grew up, there were not so many taboos about non-sexual nudity. But apparently everyone in the more ‘civilized’ world thinks being naked is an invitation to share the bed with me.” She laughed. “Try not to kill whichever servant brings the food.”

“I make no promises,” he said as he pulled on his the slacks, then disappeared into the bathroom. "You are mine, and I will not share you with anyone. Not even my brother."

She made a face. "I have no interest in being shared, especially with him," she laughed. 

He came back a moment later and tossed her a towel. “In case you’d like to towel off,” he said with a knowing grin. “Would you like some wine? It’s not as good as the Asgardian wine we were drinking before.”

“In that case, no...why settle for something that isn’t the best? Water will do for me,” she said with a smile.

“Water?” he laughed. “So tell me, how many types of other drinks have you had?” he asked her, “Tea? Lemonade?” he asked her as he grabbed an ice cold water bottle from the bar for her, and then poured wine for himself. He strolled over to her, handing her the water bottle before sliding a hand through his hair to push it back from his face.

“I don’t know what either of those are,” she said. “I’ve had cow’s milk, water, goat’s milk, horse’s milk, reindeer milk, whey, mead, and wine.” She took the bottle from him, eyeing it dubiously, then read the label, twisted the cap off, and took a long drink. “Ah, that’s good.” She looked up at him. “I’ve read on the computer about coffee and various spirits. My mother said she liked Scotch, but we couldn’t get it where we were. And she liked orange juice, which is from a type of fruit, I guess. From time to time we could get apple juice from the nearest town. It was expensive, so it was a treat; we would buy as many bottles as we could afford and ferment it into hard cider.”

Loki walked over to the bar and came back with a can in his hand. It was red and he popped it, then handed it to her. “Take a small sip. It’s rather cold and if you take too large a drink, it might steal your breath,” he said, grinning as he waited to see her reaction.

She took the can and lifted it to her lips, taking a sip, and then her eyes went wide and she handed the can back, grimacing. “Too sweet,” she said. “And the bubbles, those burned my nose. Is that normal?”

He chuckled at the look on her face. “Yes, it’s called carbonation,” he said as he took the can and took a drink. “It’s very sweet. Once you get used to it, you don’t notice the sweetness as much anymore,” he sat the can down and then sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her.

“I think I’ll pass,” she said. “It makes my teeth hurt.”

He smiled and then leaned in, “I can’t blame you, it is sweet. Very much like your lips,” he said before he kissed her, letting it linger. A slow kiss, lips and teeth and very much his desire for her.

There was a knock on the door, and she pulled back. “That must be the food,” she said, reaching for the towel he had given her and cleaning herself, then getting to her feet. “I’m going to be in the restroom until he’s gone. It’ll take forever to get dressed again, since I only brought the armor.”

He nodded, then stood and headed to the door to collect their food. The sound of the cart being rolled into the room could be heard, then brief talk, and then the door closed.

“Dinner is here, beautiful,” he called to her.

She came out wrapped in another of the big white hotel towels, the terrycloth swathing her from just under her arms down to just above her knees. She had wrapped it around her and tucked a fold under the top part to keep it pinned. “Whatever you got, it smells good, anyway,” she said, sitting down at the table opposite the bed.

“Steak, medium, baked potatoes loaded with sour cream, cheese and bacon, and asparagus,” he told her as he uncovered each of the lids that were on the plates. “Trust me when I tell you the taste will leave you amazed,” he said as he picked up an asparagus spear to bite into it, grinning at her.

She settled down to eat, tasting the steak, then digging into the loaded baked potato. She paused a moment to scrape out most of the sour cream, then replaced the cheese and bacon. She tried the asparagus, made a funny face and peered at it. “We do not get so many green things to eat, where I’m from,” she admitted. “This is...different. Not bad. Strong smelling. Is there salt?”

He offered her the salt and pepper. “I imagine not, hard for things to grow if the ground is always frozen.” he told her before he took another bite of his steak. “When we go to find Odin, I would suggest you let Thor do most of the talking at first,” he said, glancing over at her. “He has a way with Father.”

She nodded, adding a tiny dash of salt to the asparagus and then continuing dinner. “Odin does not know me,” she said. “So it was always my plan to let you two do the bulk of the talking. He may just take me for one of the other Asgardians.”

“Well, Thor and he do have a different bond either. Myself..." He shrugged. "And obviously, he doesn’t know you yet. I have a feeling that as he gets to know you, he will be as enamored with you as I am, but as a father.”

“Or he may reject me because I am half-mortal.” She shrugged, finishing the steak. “I have no control over how he react. All I can do is be myself. If he is not content with that, then I suppose I will come back here to Midgard and do as you suggested, try to find a way to fit into the modern world. Perhaps the county fair has need of a clown.”

“Oh, psshh,” he said shaking his head. “If Odin doesn’t want you, then he is ten times more the fool that I have said, but he will not reject you. Even if we have our differences, I know my father, and he will love you.”

“Yet he has no other daughters,” she pointed out, lightly. “Perhaps he prefers sons.”

“Or maybe has never has a daughter? Not that I am aware of anyway,” He told her, before taking another bite of his steak.

“Hm,” she murmured. She ate the rest of her dinner in quiet, dwelling on what tomorrow might bring. “I know there are none in lore...but I accepted that our lore was probably not complete. We humans have a funny way of forgetting to write things down, and even then, we can only write down the things we’re told about.”

“I honestly do not know of one female child born to Odin. Your mother’s plea to him and his answer to her, she may have wanted a girl, and he gave her what she asked for? If her plea to him was pure, he would have done so.”

“She didn’t talk about it much,” Signy said. “Only the basics. I don’t know, for example, whether she asked for a girl or a boy, or specified the sex of the child at all. She told me only that she prayed to him for a child, and he came to her and made one with her.” Her shoulders rolled gracefully in a shrug. “I suspect that she treasured that time together, and did what she could to keep the memories of it to herself, like a prized possession.”

“I would think that would be something you would treasure,” he said carefully. He thought no such thing, of course. “And I would guess that those things would not be something you would normally speak to your child or others about.” He took another bite of his food, then looked to her once more. “You may be the only female child of Odin,” he smiled. 

She nodded. “I suppose we will find out tomorrow,” she said, and pushed her plate back. “I believe you mentioned ice cream?”

“That I did,” he said as he reached over to take a metal container which contained vanilla and chocolate ice cream. “I thought we would start with the basics.”

She watched him dish up the ice cream, then slide a bowl and spoon over to her. She tasted the white kind first, taking a cautious half-spoonful, savoring it slowly. “This...is good.” It melted in her mouth, cold, and she ate slowly, knowing the dangers of eating too much of things that were too cold, too quickly.

He smiled as he watched her, seeing her enjoy such a simple pleasure. He took a few bites from his own bowl, then sat thoughtfully for a moment. “You know the joke about women needing ice cream when they are sad? I think there is truth in that. Ice cream is a wonderful thing,” he laughed.

She arched a brow. “Sad? I’m not sad,” she murmured. She dipped her spoon into the brown ice cream and tried it, then made a face. “Ugh, too sweet.”

He chuckled, “I don’t find chocolate more sweet than vanilla,” he commented. “I find it more smooth than sweet. Have a few more bites before you pass judgement on chocolate,” he teased her.

She shook her head. “It makes my teeth hurt,” she said, wincing, then taking another spoonful of vanilla. “This is good enough for me. Smooth. Rich. Complex.”

He laughed. “Fair enough, I’ll just eat yours,” he said with a bigger smile and went about eating more of his own. “After this, let’s go sit on the balcony for a bit, enjoy the view before we rest for the night.”

She nodded with a smile, happy to acquiesce. “I’m looking forward to bedtime,” she said, her voice catching in her throat just a bit. “I very much enjoy it when you hold me and stroke my hair, as you did last night. It leads me to know I’m where I belong.”

He stood and walked over to her, “I will hold you every night for as long as you want.”

She smiled. “That would be forever,” she said softly.

“Good thing that forever just happens to be how long I had planned on doing it. Or until you throw me out on my ear.” he teased.

“I rather think it is the other way around, Loki of Asgard,” she chuckled. “I am not the King, or even a Prince. I will be with you only so long as you want me around. Asgard is your home and you and Thor set the rules there. If I am not wanted, I do not expect to be allowed to stay.”

“Oh, well, but if Odin has returned, then he will make the rules. Thor doesn’t want to rule, not any more. He has his Avenger friends and has to deal with and he is rather fond of Midgard. He and his mortal love are no longer together, but I feel he will find someone, perhaps Sif.” A brainless cow for a brainless, stone-headed bull, he mused.

She nodded, rising to her feet. “Very well,” she said. She had finished the ice cream, and now unwrapped the towel she had wound around herself when the food arrived. “If we are going out onto the balcony, I should put clothes on. Or I can go directly to bed to wait for you.” One corner of her mouth curved up in a smile. “What would you prefer?”

“How about you get that sheet off the bed, and we’ll wrap it around us and you can sit in my lap?” he offered, standing as he cleared their dishes.

She laughed, but went obediently over to the bed and tugged the sheet off it, wrapping it around herself and tying two of the ends over her shoulder as a strap. “Your wish is my command,” she teased.

He walked to her and tossed her over his shoulder, chuckling as he carried her that way out onto the balcony. 

“Such a willing subject,” He teased as he lifted her off of his shoulder and sat her to her feet. He sat down in the lounger and stretched out, then pulled her into his lap, one arm around her back, the other across her thighs.

She nestled into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder, turned sideways across his lap, a contented smile on her face. “Now this, I could get used to,” she sighed, looking out at all the sparkling lights that dotted the city skyline at night. “A beautiful view and the perfect seat to look upon it from.”


	10. The Sins of the Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family reunion goes south. Way, WAY south.

They’d watched the stars and night sky for about an hour when he turned to her. “I think we should head to bed. We should get some sleep before we start looking for the All Father tomorrow.” he said as he kissed her cheek, “Unless you’d rather sleep right here in my lap.” he smiled, running a hand through her long hair.

She laughed. “Oh, no, you’ve spoiled me,” she said. “I’m getting a fondness for soft beds. But I want to sleep with your arms around me. At least until I wiggle my way out of them in my sleep.”

His brows arched. “Oh you do? It seems I have spoiled you, or maybe you’ve spoiled me?” he countered as he gripped her hair and leaned in to press a soft kiss to her lips. “Because I do love curling myself around you. Your body was made to fit against me,” he told her as he eased her up to stand, and then stood as well.

  
“And yours is made to fit inside mine,” she laughed. “In the morning.” She hurried ahead of him back into their suite, a grin on her face as she tossed the sheet back onto the bed and got into it, naked.

“That is…” he grinned as she took off from him and stripped herself naked. He quickly shed his own clothes and slid under the covers, reaching out to pull her close to him. “You do know that I will get you back for that, little tease,” he chuckled as he nibbled along her shoulder.

“In the morning,” she repeated mischievously. “I want to sleep now. It’s been an eventful few days.”

“I can’t argue with that,” he agreed and then turned to flip off the light. He rolled back to wind his arm around her, his hand resting over her hip, fingers rubbing her stomach lightly. “Sleep well, love,” he told her.

She rolled over on her hip and went promptly to sleep.

 

* * *

  
  


The sun streamed in through the window sheers, slanting across Signy’s back and hip and backside as she slept. Sometime during the night, she had kicked the sheets off and now lay sprawled, sleeping on her belly, her hair a tangled halo of flame around her head.

Loki lay on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other resting on his stomach as he watched her sleep. The sunlight seemed to make her hair shimmer, almost like it was fire and he found himself absolutely mesmerized by her. He’d debated reaching out to stroke her cheek, but he didn’t want to wake her.

She twitched in her sleep, fingers clenching for a moment. Curling, as if around the hilt of a sword. “You...killed…” she mumbled fuzzily in her sleep. “Village…” One leg slid up almost to her belly, her eyes still closed, and then kicked back down, but as if in slow motion.

He watched her, knowing her dream and he glanced away, guilt eating at him just a bit before he looked back at her. He reached out and slid a finger along her cheek. He’d made his share of mistakes and messes, but this one was pretty big. 

Her eyes blinked open and there was a moment of confusion before wakefulness slowly set in and she smiled. “Morning,” she purred, stretching slowly, arms over her head, legs stretching, toes pointed. “Sleep well?”

He watched her stretch and he smiled, licking his lips like a predator, watching his meal stretch in total oblivion to what was about to happen. “Very well. And you, my dear?” he asked, his hand reaching out to circle around her breast, a feather light touch.

“Bathroom. Shower. Breakfast,” she chuckled, reaching out to put a hand atop his. “And then we find Odin.”

He frowned and then grinned. “If you insist, then I guess I can put playtime aside, for the time being,” he said as he grabbed her wrist, tugging her toward him. “Can I change your mind?” he asked, sliding his hand down and over her bare bottom.

She shivered. “You make it very hard to say no,” she murmured, eyes slitting in pleasure. “I…” She took a deep breath. “I just...you don’t want me here just so you can bed me, right?”

He stopped and looked at her. “Is that how it seems?” he asked. He almost took offense to it, but he knew her better than to think that way. “No, I do not need to bed you. I enjoy it, but I can behave myself when needs be,” he smiled. “Shower, go...I will call for breakfast,” he said smiling.

“It isn’t that I don’t love it when you make me scream,” she said, sitting up. “I just think we are likely to have Thor bursting in on us again, if we do. I can’t not see him being all the more impatient, so close to his goal.”

He nodded. “Signy, you don’t need to apologize or explain yourself. I understand you want to find Odin, and I also know that Thor is an annoying oaf. I’m not upset, I have more than enough time to properly make you beg and scream later,” he assured her. “And I promise you that I will.”

She shivered, and her pupils dilated at his words. “Promise?” she whispered.

He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “My word, I promise you that I will leave you well sated,” he said then looked at her with a devious smile. “Now go shower, go,” he said and gave her a little swat to her thigh.

She crawled forward on all fours to plant a kiss on his mouth, moving with the grace of a tiger, her muscles rippling with each ‘step’, before finally pulling back. “Are you going to wash, also?” she asked.

He returned her kiss and smiled. “Once you’ve finished. I know myself enough to know that seeing you naked with water streaming over you will not keep my hands where they belong. I will make sure I call for breakfast, go go,” he grinned. She was truly something else, he thought as he watched her walk toward the bathroom. A witch, despite her protestations. Or perhaps a succubus. How else to explain his inability to keep his mind focused around her?

Signy headed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her, and turned on the shower, letting the hot water stream down before she climbed in. She washed quickly, with an economical purity of movement that wasted nothing. When she was done, she climbed out and toweled dry and used the hotel-provided robe to cover herself when she came back out. Her hair hung tangled and wet down to her knees. 

Loki looked up from the paper he was reading. It wasn’t that he cared so much about the goings on of humans, but it did help him keep abreast of things that could prove useful to him. He laid the paper down and pointed to the table near the balcony. “Breakfast is ready for you, dear,” he said as he walked over to lean in and kiss her cheek. “I will be right back,” he assured her as he headed for his shower.

She sank down into one of the chairs and dug in to the food that had been brought, noting that he had apparently already eaten. That freed her from any guilt about finishing off the rest of the bacon and sausage. A scent caught her nostrils that she was not familiar with and she followed it to the hot metal kettle filled with brown liquid. She poured a mouthful into a cup and tasted it, and then her eyes went wide and she filled the cup, going through most of the pot of coffee by the time she had finished her food and Loki came out of the shower.

Loki came out in a matching robe, hair wet and towel drying as he walked out. He smiled at the sight of her sitting there drinking coffee. He walked over and leaned down to press a kiss to her temple. “How was breakfast?” he asked her as he began to make a cup for himself.

    She showed him the nearly-empty cup and pot. “What is this...heaven?” she asked him, eyes wide, a little jittery.

    He began to chuckle. “Coffee. Some people have referred to it as the nectar of the Gods,” he told her. “I am very fond of it, as are a good number of Americans and Englishmen,” he added a touch of cream and swirled it into his mug before taking a drink.

She nodded. “Can we get more of this? It makes me feel very alert, and smarter than I think I really am,” she asked with a smile.

“I think you might want to slow down just a little. If you have too much it might make you jittery and nervous,” he said as he took a drink from his mug. He walked over to her and touched her cheek. “I will make sure to have some waiting for you when we return.”

She pouted, just a little. “The pot is almost empty,” she said. “I like it very much.”

“I can see that. I promise we will get you some after we have gone on our search today. I just don’t want you to feel sick while we are out among the craziness of New York City,” he explained.

She arched a brow. “Sick? Is it poison? Do mortals drink it? I mean, I’m half-Asgardian, I have to assume I’m at least a little tougher than they are.”

He laughed. “No, it’s not poison. It just makes you more alert, more aware and sometimes a little jittery. Your hands might shake. It speeds humans up, they drink it in the morning to help them wake,” he told her. “You’ll be fine,” he grinned.

She gulped down the last swallow in her cup and rose to her feet. “Heh, you were the one who said you were going to introduce me to pizza and bacon cheeseburgers and ice cream and new foods. You should be glad I like this so well,” she said. “I’m going to get dressed.”

He nodded. “That I did,” he agreed and smiled as he reached for some buttered toast and bacon slices. He hoped for her sake that they would find Odin quickly, so that he could spend time with her, showing her the luxuries of living in a city and having access to so many things. He looked at the time, knowing Thor would be banging on the door in the next half hour.

Signy sat down on the bed and began to pull her armor back on, starting with the breeches and tunic. “I am surprised Thor is not here yet,” she said as she fastened clasps, pulled on her boots, tucked her dagger into one of them, and fastened belts.

He tilted his head, “I think that might not be the best outfit for you today, my dear,” he said, then grabbed the box that had come while he was in the shower. He sat it on the bed next to her. “I believe I got your sizes correct,” he smiled.

She arched a brow. “This is...clothes?” she asked, lifting the lid off to reveal skinny-leg black jeans, a black tank top, black Doc Martins, the usual socks and underwear, and a high-collared, narrow-cut women’s jacket in black leather with a zipper up the front. She grinned. “At least we’ll match. Everything in black.” She eyed what he was wearing and then changed back out of the armor to the clothes he had picked out for her. “Interesting. Your brother is going to hate this, want to bet?”

“Let him hate it. I wanted you to be comfortable. I think you’ll find that it will be very easy to move in those. I rather enjoy dressing in Midgardian clothing. They have such a way with style that we don’t quite have on Asgard,” he said as he grabbed the tie and pulled it around his neck.

“I think he’s more likely to object to the colors you picked out than anything else,” she chuckled, zipping up the jacket. “You and I definitely look as though we belong together, anyway.” She ran her hands through her hair and shook her head. “All right, help me with this or I’m cutting it.”

“As my lady wishes,” he said as he walked over to grab the brush. “Sit down and you can finish my coffee while I brush these tangles out,” he said as he began on her hair, starting at the bottom. “And Thor could care less of color, he’ll think we are overdressed or something silly.”

She arched her head into the brushing, a little sigh escaping her. “I’m nervous,” she admitted.

“Why are you nervous?” he asked. “Are you worried about the All Father?” His fingers worked through several tangles, then he brushed them out.

  
“Yes,” she confessed. “I am adept at handling enmity. I am proficient at dealing with indifference. I do not know what I will do if he welcomes me. Or loves me.” She shook her head, temporarily re-tangled a section he had brushed. “It does not matter. He is not the food that I eat, the water that I drink, the sun in my sky, the air that I breathe. You are.”

He stopped and moved to where she could see him. She made it difficult to keep his true feelings off his face...though more and more, the face he showed her and the one he hid inside were becoming the same. He was not certain he liked that. “And you are all of those to me and more. I don’t deserve someone as exceptional as you,” he said as he took her hand. “And Odin will love you. He will find you beautiful, strong and as impressive as I did, if not more. You are a treasure and he will know this.”

“There is only one way to find out, I suppose,” Signy said as he finished with her hair. At the same time came a pounding at the door. “And that is our cue to leave.”

Loki sighed. “He’s such an oaf,” he muttered as he stood. He pulled her to him and kissed her, letting it linger, even while Thor pounded on the door again. “No worries right now; concentrate on finding Odin, then you can worry when the time comes.”

She nodded and coiled her hair into a rope, fastening it with a leather thong, as he went to answer the door. His kiss tingled on her lips and she smiled. “Good morning, brother,” she said calmly as Loki let him in. “I hope you slept well.”

“I confess I did not,” Thor admitted. He frowned as he took in her clothing. “I was up and down all night, worrying about Father...where did you get those?”

She nodded at Loki. “It was this or my armor,” she said. “And at least with this, I should fit in among the crowds. No one will give me a second look.”

Thor arched a brow. “You jest, surely?” he laughed.

Loki arched a brow. “And you’re wearing jeans, a jacket and hoodie. You’re really holding to the Asgardian clothing traditions, brother,” he gave him a frown, almost rolling his eyes at him. “I believe she fits in with us rather well. Shall we?” he asked, holding out a hand to Signy.

“My question was in reaction to her mistaken belief that no one would give her a second look, actually,” Thor said. “I find myself oddly pleased that my sister is so beautiful...though I think I may end up having to chase a lot of mortal ‘dogs’ off with my hammer.”

Loki’s brows rose. “Oh.” he said, rather shocked that Thor passed out such a compliment--but then, Thor had sort of flirted with her. “I can’t disagree, brother, she will turn heads no matter what,” he said, then kissed her hand.

Signy dipped her head, feeling heat fill her cheeks as she blushed. “We should get going,” she said, still not really comfortable with compliments. “If he has moved since I saw him, it’ll be harder to find him.”

Loki nodded and let Thor take the lead since he was far more familiar with the tower than Loki was. He had been there, during the attack on New York, but that had been years before.

Once outside, Loki looked over at Signy, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Signy lifted her head, finding the Avengers Tower on the skyline, and then turned in a slow circle to orient herself before hurrying forward, crossing the street at a slant between heavy traffic in the direction of the tower.

Thor and Loki exchanged surprised glances, then took off after her. She didn’t hesitate and she took command of where she was headed. Cars slowed for her, some honked, but it seemed the minute she turned to look at them, they cowered in their seats. Loki found it all rather amusing, and impressive at the same time. She surprised him every day.

She reached the other side of the street, sprinting by now. She was fast, faster than the cars going by at a snail’s pace, stuck in traffic. She dropped into the shadow of the parking garage and slowed, peering into every cranny and niche she saw.

Loki and Thor followed. Thor would point out possible places, but then Signy would glance and walk past it. She knew where she wanted to go and Loki was okay with following her without question. He admired her determination and how well she had become accustomed to the city and its nuances.

Up ahead she could see a small cluster of people, resting in the shadow of the building. Most were dirty, wearing raggedy cast-offs. Some pushed shopping carts filled with garbage. More than a few carried brown paper bags like the one she had seen in her vision. She moved more slowly now, checking every face. More than a few of the grungy men and women paused as she approached them, hope in their eyes, and she glanced back over her shoulder at Loki and Thor. Thor looked stunned, the expression on his face at seeing how some humans ended up a pained one.

There was one man, the last in the gathering, who did not approach. He sat curled up on the grass in a divot in the side of the building, a heavy, dirty coat covering his body. Shaggy grey hair that fell to his shoulders and was tangled in knots, along with an unkempt salt and pepper beard, hid his face, and he was turned away from her, a hat with a wide brim shielding his eyes. He held one of those brown-paper-wrapped bottles in his hands.

She crouched down by his side. He could not turn away further, and she saw the scars on his face and hands, the patch over one eye. He tilted his head toward her at last, a frown on his face, and she flinched. “Here!” she called to Thor and Loki. “He’s here!” 

The old man lifted his face to her, puzzlement on his features, and stared into her eyes.

Loki heard her and threw a hand back to hit Thor in the arm. Thor had heard her as well and he looked over at Loki and then the two men rushed toward her and their father.

   “Father!” Thor roared, running toward them.

    Or...no. Something else. Something else was roaring, getting closer. 

    Signy looked up just as the man in the red and gold metal suit soared in and the repulsors smashed into her, knocking her through the air with the force of a charging elephant.

    Loki called her name as she went flying and Thor shouted as well. Loki used his magic and kept her from slamming into the building. He looked over as Thor let loose his hammer, letting it smash into the Iron Man armor.

   “What the hell, hammer time?” Stark asked, managing to right himself before he was knocked too far. “I keep Loki’s minion from killing some old dude and you attack? Aren't you supposed to be on the good guys’ side? Good to see you again, by the way. How was Asgard?”

“That’s my sister, you fool! And our Father!” Thor’s voice was booming in the enclosed area. Loki rushed over to Signy who had taken a direct hit from Tony. He was seething with rage and touched her cheek.

“Signy, are you all right?” He turned to look back toward Odin and Thor, then back to Signy. “I will burn him alive in that suit,” he muttered as he looked down at her.

 Signy’s eyes snapped open; they had gone pure white, and her face contorted in blatant rage as she hurled herself to her feet, blood foaming around her mouth. The muscles in her legs bunched as she crouched, then shoved off the ground, hurling herself into the air straight at Tony.

 “What the FU--” Stark howled, then grunted as she crashed into him a full 30 feet off the ground, knocking him out of the sky even as she held on, her fingers hooked into claws, ripping at the seams where parts of his armor joined together. She tore off part of a piece on his arm just as they hit the ground together, and she flung the now-useless piece of metal away.

“She’s gone berserk!” Thor yelled to Loki. "An Asgardian berserker could kill every mortal here without half-trying! We must stop her!"

Loki was up on his feet immediately, rushing after her. He wasn’t entirely sure how they were going to stop her. She was strong, not thinking clearly, and Asgardian. He looked to Thor.

“You need to try and pin her down, use Mjolnir if you must,” he called to his brother. He had to dive out of the way to avoid being crushed when she and Tony crashed to the ground. 

 Thor rushed forward, having to use all his strength to push Signy off Stark, who was making choking sounds as she tore at pieces of his armor. She hit the ground and Thor rested Mjolnir across her chest.

 Signy immediately grabbed the hammer, bolted to her feet with it in her grip, and hauled off and hit Stark with it as hard as she could. Stark screamed like a scared little girl and went flying.

Loki blinked, shock written over his features as she took the hammer and hit Tony with it, sending him flying through the air. Instantly he wasn’t sure if Stark would live if he hit a solid building as hard as she’d struck him. 

He saw Stark ignite thrusters, he wasn’t sure if they were feet or hands at that point, and saw him hit a building--but not with the force he could have.

“Huh,” he muttered, shocked at her anger and strength.

Thor looked abashed. “You forgot she could wield Mjolnir, didn’t you?” he asked, hands on his hips as he watched Signy whirl it around, the sky going dark with thunderclouds, and then threw it, holding onto the handle strap, letting it drag her into the air after Stark. “So did I.” A lightning bolt speared down out of the sky, slapping Stark back to the ground. “We had better do something. She’ll kill him.” 

Loki looked over at Thor. “Is that so bad?” he asked, brows raised in question before he sighed and then watched as lightning struck Stark. “She does make a better God of Thunder than you do, maybe you should take up...God of Knitting?” he teased as he rushed toward Signy. 

“Signy!” he called, his voice deeper, and there was almost a hint of it carrying weight and strength behind it.

She had come down to earth again, standing over an unmoving Stark, and at Loki’s shout, she whirled toward him. Her eyes were full of white fire, electricity visibly crackling from them, and her hair had unbraided itself in the wind, a glorious crimson banner the hue of fire and blood streaming on the gale. Her hand was fisted tight around the handle of Mjolnir; it looked almost too big for her to carry, yet she bore it with ease. Her gaze fixed on Loki, and for a moment, there was no recognition there, and then she blinked, and the storm went out of her stare, and she was herself again. “What…?”

Loki strode toward her with confidence. She looked stunning, if a little too much like Thor, but he wasn’t afraid of her. He knew she would come to her senses. “As much as I might enjoy watching you kill Stark, you might want to give the hammer back to your brother.” he said nodding toward Thor.

She stared at the unmoving Stark and the dropped the hammer, looking shocked. “I remember getting hit and then...nothing,” she blurted. “Have I killed him?” She looked from Loki to Thor. “And is our father unharmed?”

Thor looked over at Odin, who was watching, shocked, drunk, but otherwise fine. “He isn’t harmed, but he is a mess,” he said quietly, walking over toward Odin. “Father?” he asked as he knelt. “We’ve come to take you home.”

Loki reached out and took her hands, pulling her close, “I will check on Stark, you go with Thor and check on Odin,” he told her as he headed over to Stark. He doubted that she had killed him, even if he knew he’d find it amusing.

Signy nodded, walking over toward where Thor knelt at Odin’s side. Odin had dropped the brown paper bag and was running his hands over his face, as if waking up from a long sleep. She crouched down at his other side, hopeful. “Father?” she asked.

He looked up sharply, looked at her, and the confusion on his face cleared.

It was replaced with rage.

“You!” he snarled, all too suddenly the All-Father again. “Get out. Get away!” He swung out with his arm, his fist colliding with the side of her face, knocking her back. The blow came from too awkward an angle to truly injure, but she fell back on her backside, a shocked look on her face. 

“Get away from me, you...murderess,” he spat. Signy stumbled to her feet, backing away in stunned confusion, naked loss writ on her face, and then stumbled, falling back to the ground.

Loki left Stark there and rushed toward Signy, absolutely stunned at Odin’s reaction to Signy. “Father?!” he yelled. 

Thor looked just as confused and shocked. “Father?” 

Loki knelt down next to Signy, pulling her close to him as he looked at Odin.

  
Odin’s hand was trembling as he pointed a finger. “My sin. My greatest sin,” he proclaimed, his tone dire. He looked to Thor and Loki. “Your mother found out about her and her mother just before Malekith invaded. Had she not been so distracted, she might still be with us today.” He glared at Signy. “I have no daughter.”

Her throat and mouth had gone dry. “Of course,” she whispered, and bowed her head. “I am sorry.” She got to her feet, tottering a little, her tone wooden and her face numb, despite the blood that streamed from her mouth and nose. “I understand.” There was such heartbreak in her eyes that it was physically painful to look at her.

Loki looked at Odin, appalled, and then to Signy. He jumped to his feet, sliding his arm around her.

Thor looked at Odin. “Father. She is your daughter! Mother died protecting Jane, not because she was distracted,” he said, angry that Odin would treat his sister as such. He glanced over at Signy, then to Odin once more. “Mother died because  _ you  _ were too arrogant to believe the Dark Elves had returned,” he said as he stood, stepping away from his father.

Odin clambered to his feet, ignoring Thor, and pointed at Signy again. “Get out of my sight,” he growled. “Before I forget that my blood runs in your veins, to my everlasting shame.”

She nodded wordlessly and turned away, limping only a little as she began to walk in the direction that led back to the hotel. She felt suddenly cold, the city so much bigger and harsher than she had ever known her village to be.

Loki reached out and took her hand. “Love, please…” He would not leave her alone, but he turned back to Thor. “Take him to Asgard,” his eyes narrowed in anger. He’d tried to forgive Odin, maybe even make amends, but now he would never forgive him. He had spurned the most genuine woman he’d ever known, and treated him not like a son, but a pawn in a larger game.

“You shouldn’t,” Signy said without turning her face toward him, and it was obvious from the raspy tone of her voice that she was crying. “You don’t want to lose him like I did.” She held her shoulders straight and hard. “I was worried...I was right to be afraid, I…” She went quiet, still walking, her body held rigid and unmoving, as if she were trying to immobilize a body part that had been wounded.

He wound his arms around her, cradling her close to him. “Quiet. I didn’t lose him. He lost me, when he admitted that he took me as a child to use me as a bargaining chip,” he told her, smoothing his hand down her hair. “Don’t let him make you doubt yourself. You are worthy of Mjolnir, you are strong, well trained, and any man on any realm would love to have you at his side. He is not a god, and he never was.”

“He was my father,” she said softly, and her voice was as brittle as broken glass. “I thought.” She shook her head. “This was a mistake.” Her mouth had gone dry. “I’ll never be able to go back to Asgard. What will I do?” She made an odd sound. “My swords are there. My...my everything is there.”

Loki took her face between his hands, “We will go get them, we will get our things and we will come back here. I have a place we can go, several to be exact, we will come here and leave Asgard behind,” he told her. “We will come back to Midgard and we will live here and forget Odin and his nonsense.”

“I can’t go back,” she said. Her tears were slowly drying up, like a well that had no water left to give, but the look on her face--pain and confusion and grief--had not changed. “The look in his eyes…” She shook her head. “He...so angry, I…” She looked up at him finally. There was something slowly dying in her gaze, some hope that she had entertained that life might be good, that things could change for the better. “I never even met your mother. I...grieved for her when I learned she had died, I…” She shook her head, still barely more than a child trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle so she might make it make sense. “I...don’t need my things on Asgard. I will...I will…” she laughed, but the sound was broken. “What use is a sword  _ here _ , after all? I am just a stupid girl with no understanding of how life works.”

“My sweet Signy, there is so much you can do, places we can go and so much life in this universe,” he said as he pulled her close, holding her. “You have a brother who very much loves you, regardless of Odin and his cruel words. Thor is right, Mother's death is on his hands and others, not yours. My mother would throttle him right from the afterlife if she could. I guarantee it. She was a kind, beautiful soul who would have loved you.”

“Then why did learning about me kill her?” Signy asked, and her voice cracked.

“Frigga died because Odin didn’t believe Thor when he told him that the Dark Elves could have returned. Even when they infiltrated our castle. Ask Vali, or Tyr, either of them will tell you that it was not her being distracted, but Odin’s arrogance. Ask Thor! He just defended you against Odin,” he reached out to lift her chin so she was looking at him. “I am as much at fault for my mother’s death as he is.”

“I don't believe that,” she said quietly. “You so clearly love her.”

He nodded, and for the first time admitted to anyone what he had done. “When the commotion started, I was being held prisoner for something I had done. I directed the Skurge toward Odin’s chambers, not knowing it was my mother who he would find.” Tears shimmered in his eyes, making the blue brighter. “I am as much at fault for her death as he is. I could have not been so blind in my desire to punish Odin.”

She stared for a moment, then shook her head. “You did not deliberately do anything to hurt her.” Her gaze hardened. “And neither did I. I didn't even know about her. My mother might have prayed for a child, but he could have sent her an acceptable mortal man. He made the choice to bed her and make me. If she died because she was distracted, that is on him. Not me.” She kissed him, stopped where they were not far from Stark. “And not you.”

“You two...are just...charming…” Stark groaned. He sat up slowly, wincing.

She glared at him. “Why did you attack me, metal man?”

“Because he is unable to assess a situation before reacting,” Loki said as he pulled Signy close. “Signy, this is the arrogant asshole known as Tony Stark, Iron Man,” he explained.

“I still have a Hulk,” Stark snapped. “Where’d your army go, demigod?” 

Signy scowled. “I’m of a mind to borrow back my brother's hammer and finish the job of beating you to death.”

Stark blinked, then frowned. “I know I was unconscious, but I wasn't so unconscious I missed seeing someone other than the elevator who could lift the hammer. Didn't happen.”

Loki looked over at Signy. “Go get the hammer from Thor since Stark thinks you unable to wield it. It might be nice to force him to eat his words for once.”

Stark snarled at Loki. “You and I are _not_ friends, asshole, don't act like we are. You threw me out a window 72 stories up.”

“Thor took Odin back to Asgard, anyway,” Signy said. “It doesn't matter. Can we go?”

“And you nearly killed Signy, and all of Earth, if I am not mistaken,” Loki reminded him. “Thor told me about Ultron, such a good job with that one.” He looked at Signy and held his hand out to her, then looked at Tony. “It was not a pleasure at all to see you,” he said as he turned with Signy to leave.

“I didn’t say you could leave, you bastard,” Tony said, struggling to his feet. Signy had peeled about half the suit off him, but there was still a repulsor in one gauntlet and a single boot on one foot. “You’re still wanted for crimes against humanity.”

“I will rip the rest of that armor off you and use the sharpest piece I can find to flay you to the bone,” Signy snarled, gritting her teeth. “You have chosen the worst possible time for your dick-measuring contest. I am not in the mood.” She bit out each word, eyes narrowed with impending fury. “Choose your next words carefully, you crawling ant.”

Loki looked at Tony, then to Signy and there was a smile on his face that was sheer joy. Signy wasn’t going to take an ounce of shit from Stark and she’d already proven she was more than capable of giving him a proper ass beating. Loki folded his arms across his chest and smirked.  “Please, Stark, continue to piss off the only daughter of Odin.”

“You’re both monsters,” Stark growled. “There’s no way I’m letting you walk away from here.” The gauntlet he wore sparked, damaged by her attack, and he huffed impatiently, shaking it to try to get it to fire. “Just a minute. It’s being difficult.”

Signy made a low snarling sound in her throat and then lashed out, one leg pivoting outward as she bent at the waist, her booted foot smashing into the center of his chest and hurling him away. “Can we go?” she asked, straightening up and looking at Loki. “I have to try to figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.”

“You know, you could definitely hook up with Rogers and Barnes. Word is they and Stark don’t see eye to eye any more,” he grinned as he took her hand and started for the hotel. To Tony’s eyes, they merely faded into the cityscape, Loki’s magic hiding them from the eyes of those walking about.

“Who?” Signy asked, head down, staring at the ground as she walked with him. “More like him? Why would I want anything to do with them?”

“Well, I can’t say much about Barnes, only what I gathered from what I heard in the mortal news, but Rogers and Stark had a very large disagreement,” he looked at her. “I thought you knew who the Avengers were?” he asked as they neared their hotel.

“I know there are people with greater abilities than normal,” she said. “I don’t know their real names. I don’t know them personally.”

“Well, then, it seems we’re going to have some lessons in Midgard assholes and heroes,” he said with a smile as he glanced over at her. “Your dear brother is on that list, on both sides.” 

“Why do I need to know?” she asked grumpily. “Why should I care?” She tried to sustain the anger at Stark, but her face kept shifting back and forth from anger to grief, as unsettled as she’d ever been.

“Because if we stay here, you’re going to need to know. I might suggest we leave America and head to Europe though. It’s much more… liberal and far less violence in some places. And much less Stark,” he told her as he opened the hotel door for her.

“Going back to Europe...that’s going to feel like going home. Back to the village. A failure. Worthless,” she muttered. “I don’t want to go there. Not just yet. But you call the shots and pull the strings, so you decide what we do.” 

He reached over and took her hand, the lobby was full of people and he wanted to be upstairs before they had the discussion, “We’ll talk in our room,” he told her before lifting her hand to kiss the back of it.

 


	11. Playing Tourist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lovely day in New York, after everything went to shit.

They rode up in the elevator, and she was silent for the ride, her face schooled to neutrality, though her fists were clenched at her side. The clothes--jeans, jacket--he had gotten for her were shredded in places by the repulsor blast she had taken, but she ignored the damage as they got out of the elevator and headed down to their room. She waited as he unlocked the door to their room and then headed inside, sinking down into a chair to pull off her boots, only to let out a curse. “My dagger’s gone. I must have lost it in the fight. I didn’t even notice.” She swallowed hard. “That was the last thing I had left from my village.” It was a tiny insult, but on top of everything else that she had faced that morning, it hurt.

He stripped out of the tie, then jacket, before he walked over to her and took her hands, pulling her to stand, “We can go back to Asgard and get your swords and other things. If you don’t want to go, I can go alone, get our things and come back. Where you are, that is where my home is,” he told her. He was shocked to realize that he meant it. “And if that means you want to live here, or there, or in some other realm, that will be okay too. You are _not at all_ responsible for my mother’s death. She was not distracted, she was protecting Jane, and she was also battling someone who was far stronger than her.” He pulled her into his arms. “Trust me, he would only disappoint you in the end.”

“Yes, you said as much once before,” she murmured. “But you also said he’d be insane to reject me, and...I allowed myself to hope. I should have known better. Hope is a deceiver, and a killer.” She closed her eyes, resting her head against his chest. “I will not go back to Asgard, but...I would like my swords. Please.”

“I still think he’s insane to reject you, especially when he’s trying to blame you for something that was not your fault. To blame his infidelity and her death on you, proves he isn’t worthy of you,” he cupped her face in his hands. “Your worth is not based on his acceptance. You are so amazing.”

She looked up at him. “I have no father. I am my mother’s daughter,” she sighed. “What about that Stark person? Is he going to cause trouble? Or that Rogers person you mentioned? I guess I do need to learn.” She looked around the hotel suite, disheartened. “I may be a warrior, but that doesn’t mean I look forward to a life of nothing but battle, no matter how good I may be at it.”

“They are extraordinary men, according to Thor, who are trying to protect the Earth and the people on it. Stark is a technological genius, Rogers is a super soldier, and there are others who fight alongside them. Recently, Stark and Rogers had a parting of ways,” he said as he began to unbutton the dress shirt.

She sank down onto the edge of the bed, her hands clasped in her lap. “Well, that Stark seems to hate you,” she said, looking up at him. “We heard about the Battle of New York on our radio, years back. I was much younger then.” Her eyes were curious and sad. “I’ve never asked you about it.”

“Oh, I was definitely the villain I sort of might have opened a portal for an alien army to come take over the planet. It was definitely not one of my finer moments,” he told her with an embarrassed smile. “I am not the good man you think I am either, my dear, not at all,” he admitted as he sat down next to her. He looked over at her. “I’m not a good man at all.”

“Maybe not. But you’re mine,” she said quietly. “That’s all I care about.”

He nodded, “That I am. I can never imagine another woman ever being able to come close to how exquisite you are,” he reached over and took her hand in his. “I have half a mind to marry you so you can’t slip away from me.”

She arched a brow at that. “I...cannot wrap my mind around that yet, Loki,” she murmured. “I have barely been able to adjust to all you have brought to me so far.” Her expression was troubled. “Should we expect this Stark to try to pursue you further? Or the one called Rogers? Or the others you mention?”

He smiled. “To be honest, I can’t say. I don’t know all the details of what went down. I am sure if we looked, we could find those answers. I guess we should do a little internet research,” he said as he stood and walked over, pulling a laptop from a long drawer of the desk.

She nodded and watched him as he set things up, long fingers tapping on the keyboard, seated so elegantly at the desk. She stayed where she was on the bed, leaning over, arms wrapped around her shoulders. He was in his element everywhere he went, and she felt she very much was...not.

He looked over at her, then picked up the laptop, and walked over to the bed. “Come here, my love,” he said as he sat on the bed and scooted against the headboard, patting the bed next to him. “Come on.” There was a taste like ashes in his mouth as he realized that, in surrendering to him, she had defeated him. He could see her grief, and anger; it went from one to the other, peppered with doubt and confusion. He looked at the screen once more, knowing that he was mostly responsible for it all. Had he never wanted to find her, she would be living her life, unaware of him, Odin, Thor or anyone else.

“I don’t know what to do any more,” she said, crawling up the bed to where he sat by the headboard. She lay down, putting her head in his lap. “Everything was so easy once. I knew my place, I knew my duty, I knew what I had to do. Now, all of that has changed.”

“Isn’t that a part of life? Change?” he asked her as he looked over at her. “You can adapt to be whoever you want to be, whatever you want to be,” he said, then pulled up a webpage, “This is some of the information I found on Steve Rogers,” he said, showing her the page. “I can also show you part of the news footage of my last… encounter with them.”

“Okay,” she said simply, curling up, her head still in his lap, at an angle to watch the laptop screen.

He let her watch news footage, commentary, interviews and then paused it, “I am guessing you have a ton of questions regarding it, so I will tell you whatever you want to ask.”

She shook her head. “I don’t have any questions,” she said quietly, sounding subdued.

“I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t have a lot of questions. Are you angry with me?” he asked.

“No, I’m not angry,” she said, looking up at him. “I don’t understand why you did something like that, I guess...but I don’t need to. It’s not my place to judge you.” She looked sad.

He closed the laptop and then set it aside. “Talk to me, Signy. I am sorry about Odin. I truly believed that Odin would be thrilled to have you in Asgard. I can never apologize enough for that.” He reached over and took her hand. “I am sorry for everything.”

She took a deep breath. “You don’t need to apologize to me. I’m not mad. I’m not upset at you at all. If I’m mad at anyone, it’s myself. I should have known better. But even with that, I’m going to be okay. I just have to...figure out how I’ll get along now, out here. What to do.” She frowned. “Will Odin do anything to the kids we brought back from my village? When he goes back and finds out about them?”

“I will ask Thor to watch out for them. You know that Thor is very fond of you, and he’s not going to forget you exist. He will pester Odin about you. He’s stubborn like that.”

“I doubt it will do him much good. I think your father is more stubborn still,” she sighed. “Is it safe to go out, or will Stark be searching for you? I want to...I don’t know, do something to take my mind off this, if we can. You promised things, I don’t know. Shopping. Food. Maybe a movie, if we can afford it?”

He smiled, “Of course we can. I can make sure that no one notices us. Just a small spell to make us blend in among the crowds. We will go shopping, maybe see a play or an opera? We could have dinner at a fancy restaurant? Or a greasy diner?” he rubbed her hand. “Whatever you want to do. If you wanted we could even head to Europe tonight, shop in Paris tomorrow,” he told her.

“Here is good enough,” she said, sitting up slowly. “I rather find myself coveting my brother’s hammer. I wish I had something of the sort. I don’t suppose the dwarves that made and enchanted it are still around.”

“You want a hammer of sorts?” he asked. “Or do you want something you can bash into things to help with how you feel?” he asked. “Or something that is yours, truly yours that signifies _you_?”

“The latter,” she said. “A sword would be better than a hammer. I leave those to my brother.” She shook her head. “Never mind, I’m probably being a fool.”

“No, you’re not. I have my magic, Thor has his hammer, Tyr has one hand,” he teased. “But there is nothing wrong with wanting something that is for you.” He thought a moment. “I could commission something for you, something special.”

“I have something special for me,” she said quietly. “I have you.”

“I meant a weapon, of course you have me,” he said as he slowly rolled to his side. He leaned in and kissed her slowly, letting it linger.

“That...filth we met in the park on the way to the hotel last night shows me that, unfortunately, weapons _are_ needed,” she murmured before he kissed her. She melted into it, eyes fluttering shut for a moment, a soft moan escaping her.

He moved so his body was over hers, sliding a hand into her hair, holding there as he deepened the kiss when she moaned, taking that opportunity.

“Loki…” she groaned, arching under him, running her hands down from his shoulders to the small of his back, and then to his hips.

He didn’t stop kissing her; instead, his kisses moved down her neck, suckling here and there, biting and leaving tiny red marks, then soothing them with his tongue.

She writhed underneath him, her body stretching taut for his mouth and hands. Her feet dug against the mattress, her whole body aching for his touch and his kisses.

He gave a groan of need as he pulled from her neck, looking down at her. He loved how her lips were slightly swollen and the way her eyes showed that need. With no hesitation, he began to nearly tear her clothes off her, wanting her naked.

Her hands found his own clothes and worked at the fastenings, moving as she could to help him get hers off. It wasn’t long before they were both nude, her pale skin shimmering under his gaze, curving body sleek and ripe before his stare.

He sat between her legs on his knees, sliding his hands from her knees upward, sliding his fingertips over the silk of her skin until his hands covered her breasts, feeling the weight of them in his hands, his thumbs sliding teasingly over her nipples.

She moaned, staring up at him in adoration, shivering at his touch. “Show me something new,” she whispered.

“As the lady wishes,” he said as he leaned down to suckle at her left breast, then the right, using tongue and teeth until her nipples were rock hard, his mouth made a trail to her throat and then to her lips.

She moaned, reaching up to lace her fingers through his hair, holding his head as he kissed her, her body soft and eager under his. Her hips rose under his, grinding against him, and she lifted one leg to wrap it around the back of his knee.

He grabbed her leg, not letting her wrap it around him and he smiled, a bit deviously and then he moved swiftly, rolling her to her stomach, his body stretched out over hers, teeth teasing her shoulder as he ground his arousal against her backside.

“Something new you’ll get,” he said in a whisper at her ear.

She whimpered at the wave of desire that rolled over her, swamping her senses, blurring her vision, and she felt her heart beat harder, faster in her chest. “Please,” she whispered back, stretching her arms out over her head, her breasts grinding against the sheet underneath her.

“Such need,” he said as he moved to his knees. He pulled her slightly backward, not up on her knees but enough that he could thrust into her, holding her hip with one hand, the other on the bed to hold himself up.

She gasped as he buried himself in her, fists clenching into the sheets, her head falling back, legs splayed open wide. She felt his hips grind against the soft roundness of her backside and bit back a moan.

He moved slowly, grinding into her and using a roll of his hips. As she moved her legs wider, he gave her quick, shallow thrusts, followed by a hard, deep thrust where he rolled his hips. He gave a slight groan with each deep plunge, feeling her body tight around him. He moved his hands to the sides of her body, holding himself over her as he began to thrust with slow rolling hip movements.

She moved with him, but there was a puzzled look on her face as she did so, not quite confused, but as if she was waiting for something else. Little moans escaped her with each thrust, but she kept looking back at him.

He smiled, reaching down between them with his right hand, pulling from her slowly and then ran his fingers along her seam, several times, then grabbed himself, pushing back into her slowly. But he moved and dragged his hand over the tight rosebud between her cheeks, using her fluids as he teased her with a finger.

The puzzled look was instantly replaced with outright surprise, and a sudden gasp torn from her lips as she reflexively pushed back against his hand. “This...this is different,” she moaned, her voice suddenly shaky and intense. “Oh, god…”

He pushed the finger in to his first knuckle, holding there as he grabbed her hips and pulled her up to her knees, pushing into her all the way.

She made a mewling sound, her entire body breaking out into shuddering convulsions, waves of heated desire pouring through her. Her fists clenched tightly and punched through the sheets and the top of the mattress in a sudden spasm of unhinged strength. “Oh…” she moaned, head thrown back, muscles tightening.

He grinned at her reaction, that grin becoming need. He withdrew his finger and this time used his thumb, pushing it past that tight ring, feeling her body trembling as she did. He chose that moment to begin a quick, hard rhythm, his thumb sinking deeper, then his fingers gripping her cheek hard in his hand.

Her eyes rolled up in her head and she exploded, mouth gaping open like a beached fish, unable to make a sound as ecstasy ripped through her, her body shaking violently as her honey soaked his flesh, running down the inside of her thighs. The pliancy went out of her as she stiffened, muscles clenching tightly everywhere as she climaxed, totally overwhelmed by the ‘something different’ he had introduced her to.

He was shocked at how much she had enjoyed it and when she reached her peak, he felt it, her body clenching tight around him. He nearly shouted at how tight she became and with each spasm he pushed harder, until he was slamming himself into her, the sound of their bodies filling the room along with the grunts and groans as he pushed until he growled, throwing his head back with his release.

  
She collapsed down onto the bed without a sound, pulling free of him, rolling over; her head spinning, a little dizzy, heart pounding fit to burst. She panted for a minute, trying to catch her breath, face flushed, and stared up at him in uncomprehending, inarticulate bliss. It was a while before she could talk. “That…”

“Was just a taste, maybe later we’ll play some more,” he told her as he took a few moments to catch his own breath. “I will guess that you enjoyed that?” he teased, looking over at her. “If you didn’t enjoy it, we can refrain from ever doing it again.”

Her expression was blissed. “More,” she mumbled, shivering. “Much, much more.”

That made him laugh out loud. “Very well my dear, we will have more and I will introduce you to all kinds of pleasure,” he said as he rolled to his side to look at her, reaching out to tug gently at a dusky nipple.

“It’s too early to go to sleep,” she murmured. “It’s not even lunch time yet. Maybe… shower and then go explore?” she asked.

“That sounds like a wonderful plan,” he said as he got up and motioned for her to follow him to the shower. “Shopping too,” he told her.

She followed him, waiting until he had turned on the water to climb in. It was chill at first, brisk as the stream back in her village, and she let the water soak into her tangled hair, grabbing a cloth to wash with.

The water heated up and he began to work at gently easing the tangles from her hair. “I know you had mentioned cutting it, would you like to stop at a salon? Possibly get a new style?” he asked her.

“If it got cut only to as far as the small of my back instead of my knees like it is now, it would be better,” she said. “There’d still be plenty for you to play with.”

“You could cut it to midback and there would still be plenty to wrap around my hand when I want to kiss you,” he said as he did just that, winding her hair around his hand to slightly tug her hair back so he could kiss her.

“I just want to be able to take care of it myself,” she murmured between his lips, kissing him back. A shiver ran up her back and she pulled away. “Shower. No play, not now.”

“If I want to kiss you, I will _kiss_ you, woman,” he teased, kissing her cheek then moving back to messing with the tangles in her hair. “We’ll find a salon first, then shopping and exploring,” he said as he reached out to take the shampoo. “I don’t mind helping,” he reminded her.

“No, I know. But I’m a grown woman, I should be able to take care of myself,” she murmured. “Especially when you are not here. What do we want to do for lunch? You mentioned that...pizza stuff.”

“We could do pizza or we could go somewhere a bit more upscale. Would you prefer to dress casually while we shop? I plan to take you out for a formal evening one night while we are here,” he told her, “And it’s not so bad when your partner wants to help you, love,” he reminded her.

“How about pizza for lunch and something more upscale, as you put it, for dinner?” she asked. “I know you want to dress me up like a pretty doll.” She offered him a faint smile.

“I just think you would enjoy yourself, but if you would rather not, we don’t have to,” he said as he worked shampoo through her hair. “But salon, then pizza.”

She finished cleaning up and climbed out, toweling dry, and then went to get dressed. “The clothes you got me are ruined,” she called unhappily to the bathroom. “It will have to be my armor again. I rather liked that jacket.”

He finished his own shower and got out. “I’m sorry, I think I actually had several other outfits sent when I purchased that one for you. There should be a box in the other room, I think I sat it near the bar, on the table,” he called to her from the bathroom as he dried off, then wrapped himself in a robe.

Signy went to go look and found the box where he said it would be, pulling it open to find several more pairs of jeans and three shirts in red and black and white. The boots he had gotten her were fine, and she dressed quickly, lacking only the jacket from before. She took the time to braid her hair into a thick, if wet, coil down her back, then sat down on the bed to wait for him to get ready.

He came out and smiled at her choice, then began to get dressed himself. He pulled on a dark blue v-neck t-shirt and black jeans, along with black boots. He grabbed a hoodie from the back of a chair and threw it over his arm. “Are we ready, love?”

She nodded. “Yes, whenever you are,” she murmured.

He took her hands and pulled her close. “Signy, please don’t let what happened with Odin take the sparkle from your eyes, or that beautiful smile,” he tilted his head. “Please try not to let his stupidity change you,” he said softly.

She smiled, and the smile was half wistful, half angry. “I have no father,” she said, repeating her words from earlier. “But I have a world to get to know better. I want my things from Asgard and then I am going to build a new life, here, with you, wherever we end up. Just as I planned before I had the vision showing me where to find him.”

“Good,” he said as he pulled her close and kissed her. “Let’s have fun,” he said as he took her hand, grabbed the room key and his wallet, which he slipped in his pants pocket and then started out the door. “I think we might also grab cellphones. It might be nice to blend in and take pictures of ourselves together everywhere like most Midgardians do.”

“I am not so vain that I need to do that,” Signy said. “There are no photographs of me anywhere on Midgard. Nor, I think, do there need to be.”

“Even if those photos were of us together?” he asked, trying to find something for her to get excited about. He stopped at the desk, and spoke to the clerk there for a moment, then turned to her. “Let’s head to a salon.”

She let him lead the way, outside the hotel to where they found a cab, and then took her to a top salon. She watched, amused, as he spoke with the person in front there, and then found herself escorted back for a shampoo and a haircut. When the person was done, her head felt much lighter--not as light as it could, perhaps, but she had not realized the strain on her head and neck muscles until it eased.

Loki kept a close eye as the stylist worked with her and he smiled when she was finished. It was stylish and yet still very Signy. He reached for her hair and smiled. “I didn’t believe you could be more beautiful, but I think you are,” he said, very impressed with the new style which was different, but not too much. It was Signy, but more updated.

“It’s lighter,” she said. “Shouldn’t be as difficult to deal with in battle. I could go shorter still, maybe--something like yours, perhaps. But we’ll see how this works.”

“Why don’t you keep it like that for awhile and then you can decide if you’d like to go shorter,” he said as he offered over a credit card, so they could move on to shopping.

She looked at the piece of plastic he held out. “What’s this?” she asked, puzzled.

“Credit card. It’s a way of keeping large amounts of money safely,” he said then looked to the girl who gave her a very strange look. “She’s from a small town in Norway, rather isolated. Her first trip to the US,” he said, his accent a smooth English tone that left woman swooning. The woman behind the desk was certainly falling for it.

“Smooth talker,” Signy snorted as they headed outside. “I could eat now.”

He grinned over at her, “Well yes, I have been told that by quite a few people in my lifetime.” He smiled as he took her hand. “Let’s go eat.”

They found a classic New York-style pizza place not far away, and were seated quickly. She peered at the menu but could not make heads nor tails of it. “I’ll let you choose,” she said. “I like meat. Lots of meat, please.”

He ordered a large pizza that had all the meats on half, extra cheese on all of it and he added pineapple to his half. He also made sure to get himself soda and he got bottled water for her. “So after this we can go shopping for a more suitable wardrobe.”

“Okay,” she said. She seemed to be fine with doing whatever he wanted to do.

He reached over and took her hands in his over the table. “I feel like you’re just going through the motions. How can I help you?” he asked quietly.

“Loki, this is all new to me. I’m just learning about this part of the mortal world. Asgard made more sense to me than this does. I am just going to be experiencing things and trying to decide if I like them or not for awhile.”

He moved from the opposite side of the table to sit next to her, sliding his arm around her. “I am sorry, I didn’t think of you and how this might be a bit overwhelming. Maybe we should go someplace a little less… busy than New York,” he offered. “But shopping is still a must do today,” he said as he leaned to kiss her temple. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

She shook her head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You haven’t done anything wrong… well, not to me. I only ask you to be patient with me, please.”

“Of course I will, I am sorry that I was pushing. We will take it slow, we’ll just go walking today, see the city. If something catches your eye, we can go look.”

“I think I might like to learn to drive. If that is all right. I look around and I want the freedom I see to move, to go where I will. On foot, I can only go so far, but if I could drive, I would not be restrained in where I might go.”

“Then we will add that to the list. Learning to drive,” he said with a nod. He looked up as their food was sat down in front of them. “Oh, this looks so good,” he told her as he grabbed their plates, putting a slice on her plate then his.

She sniffed it, then looked at the shakers at the center of the table. “Those are...spices? The pale stuff looks like cheese,” she asked, drinking some of her water.

“It is spices, they are hot, but the other is parmesan cheese, it has a salty rich taste. I rather like it on pizza and spaghetti, try some,” he told her as he took a bite of his pizza, glancing out the window at the normal New Yorkers doing their normal everyday lives.

She dusted her slice with cheese, then reached for the crushed red pepper shaker. She turned it over to shake and the lid fell off, showing that apparently the person who had used this table before had a nasty sense of humor. She arched a brow, set the shaker down, lifted the slice, and dumped off the excess. A huge amount still stuck to the slice, glued there with grease and melting cheese, but she took a bite and chewed, the red pepper seeds crunching in her teeth.

“Mmmm, this is good, very good,” she said. Her face had gone a little rosy from the heat, but she was not yelping in distress from the pepper. The flush died away almost instantly, and she licked some of the greasy red pepper from the slice, then grabbed a spoon and scooped up some of the crushed red pepper that had fallen off the slice after her shake, and put it back on.

“Well, it appears that you like spicy foods, that is good to know,” he laughed and then sprinkled cheese on his slice. “I will have to take you to get Chinese food as well. They have some very rich and spicy foods. I am very fond of Asian dishes,” he told her.

“This is _excellent!_ ” she enthused, grinning widely. “It gets better the more of this stuff you put on it! I sort of feel like I could breathe fire like a dragon!”

He laughed, “I bet you could, most folks can’t tolerate that much spicy red peppers.” He was amused with how animated she’d become as she ate. It was good to see her smiling as much as she was. “I enjoy spice, but not to that extent,” he chuckled.

“Is there hotter spice than this? Because if there is, I’d like to try it,” she said, finishing off the slice and grabbing another one.

“There are many other spices hotter than that one, there are jalapenos, wasabi, ghost peppers. That is something we can put on our list, try tons of spicy foods.”

“Yes, yes,” she said, nodding vigorously. She had put down the pizza and gotten up to grab the pepper shaker off an empty adjoining table, unscrewing the lid and sticking a spoon in there and gulped down a spoonful. “All the spicy foods.” She chased the mouthful of peppers with a bite of pizza, and then alternated. “Also, I think this would go better with ale, do they have any here?”

“That they do,” he said, ordering one of his favorite craft beers that the restaurant served there for both of them. He took another bite of his food before taking a drink of the soda he had. “So what do you think of the pizza?”

“I like this very much. Maybe not as much as a good steak, but very much. Especially with the peppers added.” She peered at the nearest table. “What do they have on their pizza?”

“Oh, those are jalapenos,” he said then waved the waiter down. “Could you bring us a side of jalapenos and the pepperoncini peppers as well, thank you.”

He took another slice for himself and took a bite, “Two new spicy peppers will be coming out soon, my dear.” He grinned.

She grinned, taking a long drink of her ale, then frowned and looked at it. “What is this...wolf’s piss? No stronger ale than this?” She picked up the menu and peered at it. “This. I want to try this.” The line she pointed to read ‘Dragon’s Milk Stout.’

He looked at it and shrugged. “Why not?” he waved the waiter over and ordered one for her. “I have no idea what that is, love,” he admitted. “Wolf’s piss? That’s the best you have?” he laughed. “You could have said water.”

She looked both amused and outraged. “It’s the same thing you’re drinking!” she protested. “You ordered for the both of us!”

“I rather like this, I meant you could have called the ale water,” he laughed. “Wolf piss isn’t a bad metaphor, though,” he chuckled and reaching over to rub her back. It was an absent-minded action. He didn’t think about it, just reached over to touch her, and though he paused when he realized what he was doing, he didn’t stop. _She changes my very nature without even trying._

She arched into his touch with a smile, almost purring like a cat. “I like it when you touch me,” she murmured.

He glanced over at her and then leaned in, pressing his lips to her cheek, “And where do you like me to touch you?” he asked, his voice soft and teasing.

“Everywhere, although not some places when we are in public,” she chuckled. “Or, well, let me correct that. I have not yet discovered places I do not want you to touch me. But we have not tried everywhere.”

“We’ve tried most of them,” he said with a devious smile, “And trust me when I tell you that I intend to try them all,” he assured her before reaching for his drink. The waiter returned with her new drink and sat it on the table for her.

“Oh, there are many places you have not touched me yet. Behind my ears, for example. Or on the inside of my elbows and knees. Or the pit of my throat.” She grinned.

“Oh, I think I have found the pit of your throat more than a few times,” he told her, as he leaned in, biting at her earlobe, teasing it with his tongue. “And I think I will find all of those places tonight,” he informed her.

She shivered. “The insides of my thighs, I enjoy it when you find those with your mouth,” she murmured quietly, so her voice didn’t go far past the table.

“Oh, very much so, I love how you tremble just slightly when I bite, enough to leave a little red mark on that velvety skin of yours,” he said as his hand moved to rest on her thigh, teasing it with long fingers.

“And the undersides of my breasts,” she murmured, more quietly still, another shiver rolling through her.

“Oh, I know I have touched and kissed there before, because you can be a bit ticklish if you’re not going crazy with need,” he whispered as he dragged his fingers along her thigh and back up.

She swallowed hard. “Okay, we’re in public, we...probably shouldn’t,” she whispered back, shuddering at the feeling of his fingers on her thighs.

“I promise to behave myself,” he said as he slid his hand up her thigh and then leaned back. “As hard as that might be.”

“I’m guessing it’s very hard, right now, at least if my memory serves me right,” Signy said.

He grinned and took her hand, pulling it over and pressing it against his arousal. “You tell me,” he said with a grin and then a quick kiss before he let her hand go. He winked before he lifted his pizza to take another bite.

She blushed brightly. “Very hard,” she muttered, and ducked her head, hiding her blush by grabbing her pizza and taking a bite.

He laughed softly and lifted his glass to his lips, taking a long pull of the beer before glancing over at her. “How’s the Dragon’s Milk?”

She looked to her untasted glass and laughed. “I haven’t had a chance to try it yet,” she admitted. “Someone keeps distracting me!” She lifted the glass and took a hefty sip, then grinned. “Much better.”

“Well, it was worth the distraction, was it not?” he asked, brows arched in question. He gave a nod to her as he took another hearty bite of food. “Good,” he said, holding his napkin to his mouth.

“I’m not complaining,” she laughed. She had finished another two slices of pizza, and drained the rest of the beer with a gulp. “Okay, done now.”

He had their leftovers boxed and then he finished his beer before looking at her, “Shopping, my dear?” he asked her with a smile. “There are several stores a block or so away.”

She nodded. “Sounds like a plan,” she said, getting to her feet. “Are you going to help me try things on and let me know if they look good?” she asked mischievously.

“Oh, I will let you know if they look good, but if I helped you try things on, you’d stay unclothed because I would have my way with you in the dressing room,” he told her as they walked.

“Then how am I going to manage any buttons or zippers in the back of my clothes?” she asked, an innocent look on her face.

“Oh, is that the game we’re playing?” he laughed, sliding his arm around her to pull her close. “Well, if I have to force myself to help, you may have to pay a small price,” he teased back. “Fashion consultation is not cheap, dear.”

“No one’s forcing you,” she chuckled as they headed out. “It was a request, not a demand. If you find the thought distasteful, I understand.”

He looked over at her, “You’re going to play that card, are you? I said that consultation wasn’t cheap, not that I didn’t want to do it,” he said as he grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together. “And I am very much looking forward to assisting you, my dear.”

She grinned. “Lead the way, then, lover,” she murmured, giving his hand a squeeze. “I can’t wait to be assisted.”

They walked two blocks over and found a store that had a selection of trendy and dressy clothing. Anything she would need. They walked in and immediately several of the women working noticed Loki. They were nearly swooning as they whispered. He slid his arm around Signy, smirking as he did. “You will be the talk in their breakroom tonight,” he said quietly.

“Ugh, I’ll pass,” she muttered. She stepped into the aisles, looking at the various offerings, and paused to examine a long-sleeved green tunic with shimmery edges. “This is...kinda pretty.”

He walked up behind her, “I think that would look lovely on you,” he said as he reached out to touch it, “You choose whatever you want my dear, and there is no rush.”

She wandered the store at random, picking things out, holding them against herself to judge for size, frowning critically at some things when she found loose threads or weak seams. Most of the garments she found to try on were green, black, or white. She snagged a black leather jacket off one rack and finally turned to him after twenty minutes. “I would like to try these on. I have my doubts about most of the upper garments. I think they are too narrowly fitted to accommodate my breasts.”

He looked at them and nodded, “Perhaps. Let’s let you try them on and see how you like them and how they fit,” he said before they walked over to the dressing rooms.

A woman in her mid to late twenties smiled. “How many items do you have to try on?” she asked politely.

Signy counted quickly. “Twenty-seven,” she said.

“Oh! Well, why don’t you choose ten? You can hang the others right here and switch them out as you go,” she said as she glanced at Signy, then to Loki. “If you’d like to take a seat, there are chairs right behind you.”

Signy gave her a blank look. “Why would I take only ten, when there are twenty-seven I want to try on? And he needs to come with me, he’s my...what did you call it? Fashion consultant?” She looked at the woman with a little smile and proved she had been listening to Loki when he talked to the cashier at the restaurant about the credit card. “I am just from a poor primitive village in Norway. I do not know about things such as fashion or rules or credit cards or numbers.” She reached out, hooked her free hand into Loki’s waistband, and pulled him into the changing booth with her and all the clothes she had picked out.

The woman didn’t argue, and shrugged it off, figuring that they really had no way to steal anything since they came in with nothing. She began sorting through more clothes and tossing them into bins.

Signy let Loki go once they were inside, and tugged the curtain shut, then hung most of the garments on racks, tossing him a smile. “There,” she said. “This should suffice.”

He laughed, “Look at you, Miss Take Charge. And the reason they only allow ten items is to make sure people aren’t stealing from them. It’s a big problem for stores, people stealing items,” he explained. He then stepped into her, pressing her back to the wall. “Now let’s get those clothes off, shall we?”

She laughed and pushed him back a bit, lifting her shirt off over her head. “I can do that on my own,” she chuckled, reaching for a different shirt. She had not bothered with a bra.

He laughed and let her change into the first shirt, smiling as he watched her, “You are so beautiful, it makes me breathless,” he said as he tilted his head,

She smiled before pulling a moss-green shirt on over her head. “There are many beautiful women in this city. I very much doubt I am the most beautiful,” she said calmly.

“You are the most beautiful woman that I have ever laid eyes on. And I have seen my share of beautiful women in the years I’ve been alive,” he grabbed her hand, tugging her close. “You are also the sexiest,” he said as he leaned in close, whispering in her ear. “So sexy.”

“It is not an objective measure, of course,” she said, leaning against him, shirt half pulled down, just past her nipples. “What one man thinks is beautiful, another may not find so.” She planted a quick kiss on his lips. “I find you very beautiful.”

“Well, I am very glad that you do,” he said as he reached up to tweak a nipple, tugging it gently, more playful than anything. “And while beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, no one would ever argue your beauty.”

“I know I’m what modern society considers pretty. I just try not to let it go to my head. I didn’t have anything to do with making myself that way. It’s all genetics. And what I have accomplished, my skills, my education--I find those much more worthy of praise,” she said, tugging the shirt the rest of the way down.

He nodded, “The only real thing that matters is how you feel, how you see yourself. If you feel educated and confident in yourself and your skills, that is all one can ask,” he watched her, and shifted, needing to adjust his pants just slightly, as they were a bit tighter than before.

She wiggled out of her jeans and pulled on a long, flowing broomstick skirt of black velvet, its crinkled folds flowing around her, falling to her ankles. It went well with the moss-green tunic. “What do you think?” she asked.

“I think it’s lovely. You look very comfortable in it,” he smiled then. “It looks so very natural on you, as if you would always dress that way.”

“It’s a little different than my usual garb, but not too much,” she said, yanking the skirt back off, then tugging the shirt back up over her head. “I like both of those. I’m looking for things I can mix up and put together in many combinations.” She grabbed up a dark brown skirt of the same style, put it on, and reached for a plain white ribbed cotton wifebeater tank, pulling it on over her head.

He leaned against the wall and watched. Were he in a mood to not behave himself, he could have had her against the wall and moaning his name in mere minutes. He shook the thought away and then smiled at her. “Most of the colors and clothing that you chose should work well for that. For someone who didn’t shop a lot, you have it down pretty well.”

She gave him a puzzled look before glancing down at the tank, then into the mirror. “White is out. I do not like those breast prisons that every woman is forced to wear here, but I can see my own nipples through this fabric. It is too light and very flimsy,” she said. “I just choose colors that I know I look good in. Mostly colors that reflect the natural world. Greens, browns, black, grey. Sometimes gold or blue.”

He chuckled, “Bras are sometimes, not such a bad thing. I have heard others say that you must find the right fit or they are horrible. I do not have to worry of such things, but I must admit that a good bra can give a woman’s breasts a very sexy lift that they might otherwise not have,” he said as he stayed where he was, even if he wanted to lift her off the ground and devour her.

She made a face. “How big do you think my br--what size do you think they are?” she asked, looking down at her breasts.

He pressed his lips together. “I have absolutely no idea. That is nothing I really concerned myself with. I cannot say I know how to size a woman’s breasts, other than with my hands.” He grinned.

She threw her hands up. “Go out there and pick out something pretty in my colors that looks like it would fit my breasts, then,” she commanded, a faint grin on her lips. “Something that gives it, as you said, a very sexy lift.”

He laughed, “How about I send one of the ladies from outside in to assist you with that? They know how to properly fit you and would know what will enhance the wonderful gifts you already have.”

“Ahhh, but if one of them does it, I’m fairly sure you can't stay here while she helps,” she chuckled.

“I can and I will,” he said and turned, leaving her in the dressing room as he went to grab one of the attendants to assist her.

Moments later he came back with a lovely brunette who had measuring tapes around her neck, and seemed more than happy to assist Signy.

“Your fiancée tells me this is your first trip outside of Europe,” she said as she stood right outside the door to the dressing room. “If I could come in, we can get you all measured.”

“Yes, that's fine,” Signy called. She pulled a green and black plaid flannel shirt over her as the woman came in.

The woman smiled as she walked in. “If you’re not too shy, we’ll measure around your breasts to see what your inches will be, and then we’ll figure out cup size. I’m going to guess a D or better,” she said quietly, as she had Signy turn and hold her arms up so she could measure.

Signy turned, then held her arms up, mostly patiently, until the woman was done.

“44 D. Is that good?” she asked, looking at Loki with something akin to amusement. “NOW can you find me one of those infernal things?”

He laughed and nodded “I will find something that others will fawn over and I will definitely need a bib,” he teased her, thanking the woman once more as she left Signy. He came back with a very sexy, lacy pale green bra and matching panties. And a two-piece silk camisole and shorts that were a deep gold color and he felt would make her red hair stand out more.

As soon as he came in, she tried on the bra; it had some odd wire curve underneath the cups that made things stand out more, and the back of the panties were just a string. She arched a brow after she got it them on. “They make butt floss now?”

He chuckled, “I knew you would say something about that. You can skip those if you desire. But the bra is rather sexy,” he said as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her breasts. He then pulled one of the shirts she’d chosen and handed it to her. “Try this now.”

She wiggled out of the panties, tossing them aside, and the bra, and then tried on the camisole set, looking at them dubiously. “Women go out wearing things like this in public?” she asked.

He shook his head, “No, that’s more to wear at bedtime, I thought it would look good on you and it does.” He leaned against the wall once more. “What else would you like try?”

“I like the jeans, I grabbed a dozen pairs in different colors because I don’t know my sizes,” she admitted. “And the plain shirts--t-shirts?--those are very convenient, too. I have a bunch of different things to try on here.” She turned back to the bench where she had dumped all the garments she had grabbed, bending over to sort through them to pick something out.

He took a step closer to her, sliding his hands over her bare bottom. “This is so very enticing,” he said as he let his hands slide down to her thighs and back up. “I wonder how quiet you could be?”

“Probably not very, unless I bit you to keep from making sounds. Or unless you had your hand over my mouth,” she said, and shivered. She threw a look back over her shoulder at him.

The smile that slipped across his face was almost evil as he dragged his right hand to her leg and gently raised it so it was on the bench where some of the clothes were. He gently placed his hand over her mouth, as his right hand moved to slide along her seam, teasing her before he slipped his middle finger inside her.

She arched her back as he slid his finger into her, the feel of his hand over her mouth almost impossibly erotic. She moaned into his fingers, feeling her warm breath paint his flesh with heat, and shivered. The smile he had showed her ran shudders up and down her spine.

He slipped his finger in and out of her, then added another, feeling her body trembling as he held his hand over her mouth, “I think you might like this,” he said as her juices began to flow.

“Mmmmmf!” she gasped into his hand, the sounds muffled, her inner walls clenching around his fingers in response. Her nipples had gone hard, and the warmth of his hand palming against her mound made her shake.

He continued with his fingers using his ring finger to brush over her nub with each movement of his hand. He smiled as her walls tightened around his fingers, but he withdrew then slowly, and then began to work at his pants, keeping his hand over her mouth.

She slumped back against him, gooseflesh rising over her skin, her chest rising and falling in shallow panting as waves of need rippled through her. She reached back to plant her hands against his thighs, bracing herself to keep on her feet.

He worked the pants down enough to free his arousal. Gripping himself with his free hand, he held his hand tight over her mouth, lined himself up and sank into her in slowly, then withdrew and repeated the action.

Her entire body tightened around him, her nipples going taut as she pushed her hips back against him, a low groan slipping out of her past his fingers. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, panting in hunger as he drove into her; his hard flesh inside her was enough to drive her nearly to madness, and she bent forward further, deepening the angle.

He found it difficult to keep his hand on her mouth and then drove into her and grabbed her now shorter hair, wrapping it around his right hand, using it to keep her body bent backwards slightly; it let him keep his hand on her mouth. He bent his knees and began to thrust into her again, this time using his hips to drive upward, hard and fast.

She found she had to reach out and grab the edge of the bench; it was nearly impossible to stay upright otherwise. The shaking they were doing knocked the clothes onto the floor, but she was past caring; she was thinking far more about what was inside her now than what she was going to wear on her outsides. He was thrusting with force, his hard flesh raking against the spot inside her, and she could feel the knot of tension in her gut coiling tighter and tighter with every plunge of his flesh.

He watched her reach out to grab for stability and he smiled, holding her hair tighter and his hand harder over her mouth and used his legs to bend slightly so he was thrusting upward into her. There was little sound as he did it, the angle made her tighter and he nearly groaned in pleasure but held it in, going faster.

That slight change in angle was all it took; as his head ran over her spot again, she went rigid, her body tightening, freezing around him. She screamed in bliss into his hand as her inner tunnel clamped down all around him, making further passage nearly impossible, and her fluids gushed over his flesh in dizzying spasms of rapture.

He felt her go tight and her scream into his hand was muffled and he found that the sound of her crying out into his hand was sexier than he ever imagined. He shoved into her increased tightness several times and then exploded inside her, throwing his head back, mouth open in wordless, soundless bliss.

She fell back against him with a moan, smelling the scent of his seed on the air, feeling their mingled fluids running down her thighs. Her head was spinning, and her entire body was tingling with aftershocks, her heart racing like a jackhammer. Impishly, she licked the inside of his hand, her eyes heavy-lidded and only half open.

He chuckled and held her there until he slipped from her, then pulled his hand from her mouth, his own near her ear. “That was exquisite,” he whispered before kissing her ear. “We need to do this more often, the more risky, the better the sex,” he teased.

She blushed crimson. “What is it that ‘risky’ makes it better for you?” she asked, bending to pick up all the clothes that had slipped off the bench. His seed was sliding down the inside of her thigh, and she looked around in vain for something other than clothes that did not belong to her to wipe herself clean with.

He buttoned his pants and then reached down, taking a shirt from the floor, wiping her leg with it, then it was gone, vanished. He grinned at her and then leaned back against the wall once more, “Well, the danger, the fact that we shouldn’t be doing it. That we are in public, where such things shouldn’t happen. It’s merely fun. Intimacy is taken too serious so often. I enjoy the danger and fun.”

She arched a brow. “Sex can’t be serious AND fun?” she asked him, picking another outfit to try on.

He gave a slight nod, “It can, but I think more often than not people don’t understand that it can be both. They put it in either one or the other, or maybe I should say humans. Humans are far more uptight about sex than they should be,” he said as he smiled. “So we have clothes for you?”

“Well, I didn’t try all of these on, but I think most of them are the same size. I was trying on the smallest ones, so any of the others won’t be so small they won’t fit, and if they end up a bit big, my mother taught me how to sew. I can take them in.” She pulled on the clothes she had entered the store in.

He shook his head, “Put on a pair of jeans and one of those green shirts,” he told her, “I’ll take care of the payment when you’re dressed, just hand me the tags,” he told her, knowing that the girls would fall over themselves to help him.

She snorted. “You’re used to people doing what you tell them, aren’t you?” she laughed, gathering up the clothes she had picked out, changing clothes into the items he had chosen and plucking off the tags to give to him.

He laughed. “I’m a prince, so yes, usually. Unless it’s Thor,” he winked and then grabbed part of the clothes. “Bring the others up when you’re ready,” he said as he left her there.

She laughed and finished getting dressed, gathering up her own clothes, then the new ones before stepping out. On the way to the front, she spotted a display of purses and bags, and snagged a black leather backpack off one rack, taking it with her. “I’m apparently going to need this,” she muttered to herself.

The girl at the counter had already started to ring the items up and another woman was folding the clothes and putting them in a bag. Once it was all rung up and bagged, there were four bags. He handed the girl a credit card and then turned to the older woman. “I called the hotel we’re staying at and they’re sending someone to get these and take them to our room,” he said, then turned to Signy, offering her his arm. “Shall we, beautiful?”

She took his arm with a smile. “So, what next? We did pizza and we did shopping. I have clothes now, and a bag to put them in. Should we just walk around and explore the city?”

“I think that is exactly what we are going to do,” he told her as they started toward Broadway. “Maybe take in a show or see a movie that looks interesting.”

“I’ve never seen a movie before,” she said. “Or a show. I know what they are, thanks to Mom, but...we didn’t have such things at the village, obviously.”

“I figured as such. I think an action movie might be a good choice. You would enjoy the fighting and chases,” he said as they strolled hand in hand along the street. “I’m not sure you’d enjoy Broadway as much. Now when we get to England, we will assuredly go to a Shakespeare production. Hamlet, perhaps.”

“I see,” she said thoughtfully. “I think I would like to go to a bookstore.”

“Of course,” he smiled, “maybe you'd like to pick up a few books and we could go sit on the balcony at the hotel and enjoy the evening air? And take in a movie tomorrow? You tell me what you'd like to do.” He smiled over at her, “Anything that allows me to have to in my lap or my arms would be my choice.”

“Bookstore. And some place I can get a hairbrush, a toothbrush. I liked that park we could see from our hotel window, I think it would be nice to have a... _picnic_ there for lunch tomorrow? The balcony tonight would be good. Movie tomorrow would be fine. Maybe a better pair of boots.” She smiled. “I don’t have great demands or huge needs, just small ones and the desire to be with you.”

He smiled and took her hand, holding it as they crossed the street, “We will find a pharmacy close so you get the essentials you needed and then the bookstore,” he looked over at her. “You have me, love. And if you think of anything else you need, simply say so.”

“Books. Maybe, eventually, a computer. If I’m going to live in the regular ‘mortal world’, I think I need to know more about it,” she said. She leaned over on tiptoe. She looked at him calmly. “I love you.”

He slipped his arms around her waist. “I think those are wonderful ideas. I would be happy to get you a laptop, some books, and maybe even a handheld tablet so you could read there as well. It’s very handy to have if one wants to read on a train or bus ride.” When she kissed him, he smiled and returned the kiss slowly, softly. “I love you too, Signy, no one will ever excite me as you have.”

They went wandering through Central Park for a walk. As they walked, he found one of the little vendors who had horse drawn carriage rides through the park. He helped her up and into the carriage and sat down next to her. “I thought this would be a good way for you to take in the sights and not have to worry about watching your step,” he said, and slipped his arm around her. To anyone else, they would have looked like a normal couple out for a stroll and carriage ride in Central Park.

“Horses, at least, are familiar to me,” she said with a smile, beaming up at the white horse drawing their carriage, a straw hat with holes cut out for his ears strapped onto his head. “We sometimes rented horses for helping with the plowing for the very few things we could raise in such a short growing season. But we never had enough fodder to buy our own and feed them year-round. Still, I learned how to ride very well, and to fight from the back of a galloping horse. I can use bow or throwing axe or sword on horseback.”

He looked at her. “I am not surprised. You were trained as a warrior and there is nothing wrong with that. I find it exciting. I love knowing that you can hold your own with anyone who might wish to do you harm,” he kissed her cheek. “We should tell Thor to come stay on Midgard and let our brothers deal with Odin.”

She arched a brow. “Our brothers? Other brothers besides Thor? I mean...lore mentions others, but you never spoke of them on Asgard,” she said.

“Vali is a child of Odin. You fought with him, remember, the same day you sparred with Tyr. There is also Baldr and Vidar.”

She went still, looking a little worried. “You’re...saying...I kicked my very big brother...in the family jewels,” she said at last. “If I ever am allowed back to Asgard, I’ll have to apologize.” Then her expression went south. “That’ll never happen.”

He laughed, “Vali thought you were wonderful, as does Thor. Just because Odin is king does not mean he can banish you or keep you from Asgard. You are my lady, and you are Thor’s sister. Thor will not allow him to keep you out.” He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, looking at her with a hint of a smile, “Speaking of, I need to get in touch with my brother.”

“I won’t go back if Odin doesn’t want me there,” she said quietly. “Why don’t we have the carriage take us back to the hotel and you can get in touch with Thor?”

He leaned forward, speaking to the carriage driver and also slipped him a hundred-dollar bill. He then sat back, putting his arm around her shoulder again, “We don’t have to go back there, but if we want to, you are welcome there. Odin does not get the final word, not in regard to that, anyway.”

She arched a brow. “I know you would like to believe that, but I seriously doubt you are correct,” she sighed. “Asgard does not strike me as run by a democracy. He is King, and his word is law.”

“Not really. It might be sort of like that, but Vali, Vidar, Thor and myself, well, we kind of do what we want, when we want, and no one tells us that we can’t. We just don’t listen. Odin is getting to the point he doesn’t want to rule, neither does Thor or Vali. Vidar might, but in reality, none of them really want to,” he explained. “We still don’t know what happened, if anything, to make him behave as he did on Earth.”

“You mean forgetting who he was and becoming a drunken homeless person? Or hating me on sight?” she asked quietly.

“The first more than the latter, but the latter as well. I think he feels some guilt that Frigga died, and needs to blame someone other than himself. And Thor even said that he was just as much to blame. Thor went to him about the Aether and Dark Elves, and Odin waved him off like a child.” Loki explained. “Odin has a bit of an ego, but then, find a king who doesn’t.”

She shook her head. “That’s a bad king. True rulers shouldn’t be in it for ego. They should only care about the protection and well-being of their subjects. A true King should be the servant of his people, not their master.”

“Ah, and there you go. I do not think of Odin as a good king. He is old and set in his ways. He cannot admit flaws or fault. I am no angel, nor even close, but I think his time has come and gone. He needs to sit back and enjoy his old age.”

“How will he do that without Frigga, though?” She asked him quietly. “See, at least there, I understand his anger. It’s misplaced grief. Blaming me won’t bring her back, but at least he can pretend not to be angry at himself.”

“But that is neither here nor there, it is time for him to realize that the duties are too big for him, and that it’s no one’s fault that mother died. We could point to something we all did that could be considered at fault.”

“Except me,” she said firmly. “I refuse to accept his blame. Even if she was distracted, that has to do with my mother, not me. And my mother is dead.”

“It had nothing to do with either of you. It had to do with the Dark Elves, mother was not distracted. She fought and she lost. She died a warrior’s death, and for Odin to say otherwise, such as she was distracted, is dishonoring her.”

She nodded. “You say you think his time as King has come and gone. But I don’t know who you intend to replace him. Thor clearly doesn’t want the position,” she said. “Do you?”

“At one time I might have, but I no longer do. It’s far too time-consuming and I have far better things to do with my time now.” The words started out as an automatic lie, but he paused, stunned to realize it was the truth. “Like spend it with you. There is so much to do here on Midgard, not to mention where else we might decide to go. We could visit Alfheim, or Nornheim.”

“I’d like to stay on Earth for awhile, if that’s okay,” she said. “I spent my entire life in my tiny village. I want to see some of the rest of the world before I go haring off to other ones.”

“I think I did say there is so much to do here. I think we have years’ worth of things we could do here, things you could learn. We could go to Japan and you could learn some of their fighting techniques,” he told her.

“That could be interesting,” she allowed. “Have you been to Japan before?”

“Once, awhile ago, a long while ago,” he told her. “It is beautiful and I believe you would love to see the swordsmanship and their fighting style. Maybe we could do a little research, let you find the styles you’d like to learn and then travel those places?”

“That might be useful,” she acknowledged.

“And it gives us time to travel, to see the world and for you to feel more comfortable among it, maybe pick up a few words in other languages, or learn them all,” he said with a smile. “We have quite the adventure in the planning stages, I would say.”

“I speak about a dozen languages already...but it’s always good to learn more,” she admitted. “New York first. I like this place. Then...after I’ve read some things and looked online...we can decide where we want to go next.” She made a face. “You’re going to go to Asgard and get my swords and things?”

“That I am. When we get to the room, I will go then, and also try and talk to Thor,” he glanced over at her. “There are so many things we could do and see and we have lots of time. I will also start looking for a laptop for you when I return from Asgard,” he told her.

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” she asked him calmly. “I’m not worried--I have the hotel room, and the room service, but if you’re going to be gone longer than a week…”

He laughed and shook his head as the carriage pulled up in front of their hotel. “Nowhere near so long. An hour or two, perhaps. Any longer and I run the risk of our father deciding I have been a disobedient brat once more and have him start thinking of ways to correct that. I no longer care to bow to his whims.” He climbed out of the carriage and helped her down, leading her inside.

Up in their suite, she noted that her new clothes had been delivered, and then watched him as he went about preparing things before he left. “I will be back in time for us to go somewhere nice for dinner,” he said, having changed out of the mortal clothes into his Asgardian ones, and shed the illusion of curly, sandy hair and ginger beard and blue eyes and tan skin that kept the mortals from recognizing him as the Prince of Asgard that had nearly destroyed the city years ago. “There is the television, and the laptop for you, or if you wish to nap, or—”

“Loki,” she murmured. “I’ll be fine. You’re only going to be gone an hour or two. Go speak with my brother and collect my things, and I’ll see you soon.” She stepped in close, sliding her arms around his waist, and kissed the edge of his chin. “I love you.”

He cupped her face in his hands, his look intense and smoky as he tilted her face up to his. “And I love you, my dear,” he murmured. “I stall because I do not wish to be parted from you.” He sighed. “Soonest begun is soonest done, then.” He kissed her, fiercely, sweetly, savoring the soft curves of her lips, and finally, reluctantly, released her, stepping back. “Soon,” he promised.

And he was gone.

 


	12. When the Music's Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a dark turn.
> 
> Also? Tony Stark is a dick.
> 
> (Short chapter this time around, sorry. Work's been crazy.)

After a moment, Signy let out her breath. The suite seemed less vibrant without him, less comfortable, and the smile slowly faded off her face. “This is ridiculous,” she murmured. “I managed just fine before I met him, and I can surely handle a couple hours without him.” She looked around slowly. The television was there, and the laptop, but neither much appealed. She went about unbagging the clothing he had bought her, removing the price-tags, and folding it up neatly, tucking it into the drawers of the dresser for now, then disposing of the bags and tags.

That kept her busy for all of twenty minutes. The hotel maid service had been in during their absence, so the bed was made and the suite otherwise tidied up. She sighed. There was no hunting to do here, no battle practice with the children, no meals to make or cottage to clean, none of the tasks that would have filled her day before Loki had come into her life. He had dismantled the structures she had lived by and then built new ones, all around him. She loved him, but with him gone, it left her rather at a loss for things to do.

At last, she kicked off her boots and stripped out of her clothes, down to her underthings, and crawled between the sheets of the bed. If he was only going to be gone for a couple hours, she could pass that time with a nap and be no worse off. The sheets were cool and crisp and fresh, and she let her head rest on the pillow.

She was very nearly asleep, her mind already loose and drifting, when the wall of the suite that faced the outside streets exploded inward in a rain of rubble and flame and smoke. She howled as she was thrown off the bed into the wall behind it, hitting the wall and then the floor in short order. She climbed to her feet instantly; she’d taken hits almost as hard while training the children, and the fight with Tyr.

The thing that stood in the gaping hole in the wall was very much like the metal-armored ‘Tony Stark’ that she had fought in the park after they had found Odin, but bigger—so very much bigger. It was easily ten or eleven feet tall, with lights shining in the middle of its chest, its elbows, its knees. It was mostly red, with touches of gold shimmering here and there, and moved into the room toward her with slow, lumbering steps.

“There you are, Broom Hilda,” Stark’s sneering voice rang out hollowly from the metal shell. “Thought I’d forgotten about you? Thought you were going to get away to run amuck with Loki? Nah. You’re a threat, sunshine, and you’re going down.”

Signy snarled. The armor he wore this time was much bigger, big enough to go up against giants, and she was without any weapons whatsoever. “Such a brave man, to wait until my companion was gone before coming to take me down,” she growled, fists flexing. “Does he scare you, then?”

“Your lover threw me out of a 72-story window with not a scrap of armor on me, and I don’t happen to have nifty powers like you two do. Damn right he scares me,” he bit back. “Now, are you coming quietly, or do I have to beat you down? You’re going to the Raft.”

She smiled grimly. “Beat me down, I think,” she laughed harshly, and threw herself at him.

A lance of golden light speared out of the palm of one of the gauntlets, knocking her back into the wall, and she hissed as she cracked the plaster and lathe underneath her. “Your call, sunshine,” he snorted as she peeled herself out of a four-inch depression in the wall behind her. “I’m fine with giving you bruises and lacerations to match the ones you gave me. Turnabout’s fair play and all tha—” His mockery was cut off in mid-word as she snatched up the bedside table and hurled it at him.

He batted it out of the air, but in those two seconds where his view was obstructed, she threw herself over the bed and crashed through the door out into the hallway, running as quick as she could. She reached the end of the hallway where the elevator and fire stairs were, even as she heard her attacker smash through the wall after her. She threw open the door to the fire stairs and hurtled down them at top speed, hoping to lose him; the interior of the hotel was no place to have a pitched battle with a thing like that. Out in the street, there were empty parked cars to throw, and the subway underground to lose herself in; she had a chance there.

“You think you’re going to get away just because this stairwell is too tight for me?” she heard him yell down. “Yeah, you do. You thought you’d get away because Loki changed his face. Like neither of you ever heard of facial recognition software before. How stupid was it for you to go cavorting around a city with so many cameras everywhere when all he did was change his hair color? So why you with him, sunshine?” His voice echoed down the stairwell, getting fainter as she left him behind--five stories, eight, ten, twelve. Their suite had been on the seventeenth floor, and she had almost reached the bottom.

She burst out into the hotel lobby to find it deserted. Of course the mortal authorities would have cleared the building before he came in after her. She could admire his concern for people even as she wordlessly cursed him for coming after her. She burst out of the lobby onto the sidewalk and came screeching to a halt as she saw a line of police there, in the middle of the street, the cars cleared away from the curb so their line of fire was unobstructed. They were all down on one knee, rifles leveled and aimed at her, grim in their dark uniforms and flak jackets.

“Freeze!” one of them yelled, and the sound of shots being chambered in the guns sent a chill up her spine. Briefly, she wished she had her armor, and a snarl twisted her lips.

“Ah, and here we go,” the Stark’s voice came down from overhead, behind her.

Even as she whirled, the blow hit her like a battering ram, one red and gold fist smashing into the back of her skull with the force of an earthquake and sending her flying.

She smashed into the stone front of the hotel at speed and the concrete crumbled under the impact, several tons of the facing coming down on top of her, burying her under rumble. She lay there for a moment, the back of her skull roaring in pain, feeling the trickle of blood on the back of her neck. Her head was spinning; not since the last frost giant she had killed had landed on her had she felt such pain, and her thoughts were tumbling wildly, clenching and unclenching in her head.

Trickles of air made it through the pile of debris that held her down, keeping her from suffocating, but she did not move. She was fairly certain that her right arm was broken, just above where Loki had broken it before. Worse, there were images flitting through her thoughts that she was having difficulty putting into context: an ocean of blood, flashes of silver as a sword was swung, bodies laying crumpled and broken--

_He killed everyone in my village._

The returned memory took her breath away, and she screamed, going rigid. How could she have forgotten? Had it been the blow to her head when the giant’s corpse fell atop her, or Loki’s magic?

But ‘how’ was not so important as that she had indeed forgotten. She lay there numbly and unmoving, eyes squeezed tightly closed. Every moment she had lay in Loki’s arms, let him kiss her, let him touch her--delicious as it had all been--had been a betrayal of those who had died.

She did not move when they began to dig through the rubble, pulling the rocks away. She heard the rumble and growl of the motors that ran heavy machinery as they removed the biggest pieces, heard men shifting smaller chunks, and at last, light began to shine through the smallest chinks in the caern heaped atop her head. She lay unmoving, mute and stunned, as they lifted the debris away. She did not bother to look or shift when they finally exposed her to the waning light of the day; she could hear Stark’s voice as the police came in to drag her out of the heap of broken cement.

“Careful, she’s a tough one,” Stark’s voice rang out as the yanked her to fer feet. Pain flared through her broken arm, but she bit back a whimper as they pulled her arms back behind her back and slammed thick steel cuffs on her wrists. “What’s the matter, lady, cat got your tongue? Gonna cry because your boyfriend didn’t come to save you?”

She turned her head and spat at his feet. “I hope I never see the murderer ever again,” she rasped out, her voice thick and rough with inhaled stone dust. Then she let her head drop, ignoring the questions he shot her way, and did not fight back as they dragged her into the back of a reinforced police truck, pulled a black hood over her head so she could not see, and drove away.

 

* * *

  


“Still won’t talk?” Stark asked, watching the prisoner through the videocameras. Rhodes had come with him this time, the braces on his legs strong enough to keep him on his feet this far into his rehab.

The guard shook his head. “Not a word,” he said politely, looking up at the two. “She heals fast, they had to re-break her arm to set it when she got here. It had only been a few hours since she broke it in the fight, she heals that fast. She didn’t scream. Didn’t even gasp. Just...took it. She doesn’t talk the warden, or the doctor, or the shrink she got assigned. Didn’t fight last week when they took blood samples. Her DNA’s a mess. They compared it to the DNA they got off Loki after he was arrested and taken into custody after the Battle of Manhattan. No DNA markers in common. Hers is half human. Loki’s is completely different.” The guard paused and shoved a file over toward Stark. “The other half of her DNA looks like Thor’s. Not just same species, either--half her DNA is identical to half of his. Close enough that Doctor Sampson thinks it’s a familial relationship, probably half-brother and -sister.”

Stark picked up the report and flipped it open. “Says here the human half of her DNA matches Scandinavian haplotypes,” he noted. “Biology isn’t my strong suit. Pity Banner isn’t here.”

“Uhhhh...let’s leave him out of this, Tones,” Rhodey said. “Bad enough you had to break out the Hulkbuster suit for a little girl…”

Stark’s gaze flashed up at Rhodes. “You didn’t have to fight her,” he said sharply. “She could go one-on-one with Rogers or Barnes and beat them. Maybe not easily, but she could beat them. If she’s half-Asgardian, that makes her about half as strong as Thor, not counting for the gender differences. Worse, she can lift Thor’s hammer.”

Rhodes grimaced. “Uh...that does kinda tend to validate your theory about ‘whoever possesses the DNA of Thor shall be worthy’,” he ventured.

“Yeah, probably,” Stark said. He looked back down at the report. “This says the DNA report says her human DNA is from her mother’s side. So I guess she and Thor share a daddy. Funny that Point Break never mentioned it before.” He scowled. “Where is Thor, anyway?”

Rhodes shook his head. “No one’s seen him since the Ultron thing,” he said. “We have that program constantly scanning surveillance camera film with facial recognition looking for him, but it’s like he vanished off the face of the earth.”

“Probably went back to Asgard,” Tony muttered. “Inconvenient.” He stared down at the camera footage. “Jesus, we still don’t know her name. No passport, no ID, no fingerprints on file anywhere.”

Rhodes looked thoughtful. “If the human half of her DNA matches Scandinavian haplotypes, we should concentrate our search on there,” he said. “It’s a lot smaller area to search than the entire world.”

“Yeah, they have been,” Stark muttered. “Nothing so far. How does a woman that good-looking go her entire life never ending up in front of a camera?” He looked over at Rhodes. “Maybe there’s not a lot of tech where she’s from. Small towns.” He paused. “Small towns away from bigger ones. Above the Arctic Circle, maybe?”

“Worth a shot,” Rhodes suggested.

“I’ll get FRIDAY to narrow the search,” Stark said. “She doesn’t look indigenous, we can probably rule out wandering groups of nomads.” He leaned forward past the guard and pushed the intercom button linked to the speaker in her cell. “Hey there, sunshine,” he snorted. “How are you enjoying the accommodations? Anytime you want an upgrade, you just talk to us about where your lord and master is?”

She didn’t speak, didn’t even turn toward the sound, and her facial expression didn’t change. Tony scowled. “What’s the chance the injuries she sustained during her arrest made her mute?”

The guard shook his head. “She gets a check-up every two months. Cat scan, MRI, the works. There was a skull fracture when they first brought her in, to the rear of the brain, that affected the hippocampus and parts of the cerebellum. Not the part that affects speech. But the fracture, like her arm, was almost healed by the time they got her into the infirmary. Doc Sampson just thinks she’s choosing not to talk.”

“Swell,” Tony muttered. “When’s her next check-up due?”

The guard pulled up a file on his computer. “January 13th,” he said. “Two in the afternoon, Eastern time.”

“”FRIDAY, add that to my schedule, set a reminder a day before and four hours before,” Tony said. “I want to be here for that. I find it hard to believe this girl doesn’t have a plan B. No way she’s just going to sit here without talking to anyone for the rest of her life.”

“How long do Asgardians live?” Rhodes asked, curious.

Tony rolled his eyes. “No idea. FRIDAY, what’s the first mention of Thor in old myth?”

The AI answered from the watch on his wrist immediately. “The first written attestation of Thor is listed in Tacitus’ ‘Germania’, which with other Roman records of the period dates back to the first century in the Common Era,” FRIDAY replied. “Modern day archaeologists and linguists believe worship of Thor and other Asgardians probably evolved several hundred years prior to that, but the historical record provides scant evidence.”

“So almost two thousand years? Jesus,” Rhodes murmured. “Is she gonna live that long? I don’t know if we have the budget to keep the Raft going that long. Given recent budget cutbacks, I’m not sure this place will still be here in a **_year_**.”

“Where are they going to put her, then?” Tony scoffed. “You think she couldn’t break out of a regular jail?” he asked.

“Well, uh…” the guard spoke up, sounding embarrassed. “She’s never tried to break out of here, either, Mr. Stark. She wakes up in the morning and sits on her bunk in the same position all day long. She eats when food is brought and uh, uses the facilities, then goes to bed at night. She doesn’t ask for a lawyer or reading materials or to use the gym or...anything, really. There was a computer system glitch when Captain Rogers broke the others out of here that wiped the roster of inmates. The system basically forgot who we had left. She didn’t get fed for three days. She never even tried calling for a guard to get her meals.”

Stark blinked. “That’s...uh...must be some sort of trick,” he muttered. “She’s behaving to lull our suspicions and get us to lower our guard.” He peered down at the security officer. “Anything else weird?”

The man frowned, looking uncertain. “Come on, man, give it up,” Rhodey said impatiently.

“She started crying, once,” the guard said quietly. “For about a minute. Then she stopped. That was three months ago. It’s never happened again.”

Tony was taken aback. The prisoner had been at the Raft for almost a year. There had been no sightings of Loki anywhere in the world since he and the woman had gone into that hotel in Manhattan, and he had disappeared. After subduing her in front of the hotel, she had not fought being arrested.

“I want the livefeed of her cell piped to me starting today, immediately,” Tony said abruptly. “There’s something weird going on here, I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t trust it.”

    “Sure thing, Mr. Stark,” the guard said. “I’ll let the warden know.”

    “Come on, Rhodey,” Stark muttered. “Let’s get out of here. I have a meeting with the kid later tonight.” He cast a last look over his shoulder at the video monitor, scowling, before heading out the door.


End file.
